Head Trip
by exangel42
Summary: Sam wakes up in a mental hospital and is told that Dean isn't real. Dean & Bobby try to care of Sam who was injured during a hunt and has yet to regain consciousness. Sam tries to hold on to his sanity. Limp!Sam Casefic Season4
1. Chapter 1

Warnings: Graphic violence, language  
Timeline: Season 4  
Disclaimer: Based on the Series Supernatural. Copyright infringement not intended.  
Status: Complete

Notes: This story switched back and forth between realities alot. If you like movies like 12 monkeys, you will probably like this.

CHAPTER ONE  
Lying Safe In Bed

Sam Winchester rolled over in bed, the bright glow of morning slightly stung his eyes. He shut them tight as he attempted to block out the day. A small groan escaped his lips. He wondered what time it was. Lately Dean would wake him up before dawn. Dean kept them constantly chasing after hunts. Perhaps Dean had finally managed to rest. 'Good,' Sam thought. It was about time Dean had a good night's sleep. Sam his best to sit up quietly, so not to wake his brother. He wearily rubbed his blurry eyes as he slowly opened them. His eyes blinked, they adjusted to the light. He looked around; his eyes filled with confusion as they surveyed the room.

This wasn't the motel he and Dean had checked into. This room had a plain sterile appearance. He sat there on the uncomfortable bed and examined his surroundings. The walls were stark white. The floors were covered in cold linoleum. A set of pale pastel curtains hung by a rail from the ceiling; they were drawn closed on one side diving the room in half. Across the room a set of partially open vertical blinds covered the only window. A simple white cotton blanket was draped across the young man's legs.

Where was he?

Sam tried to make sense of where he was. He thought a moment... This had to be a hospital. Had Dean taken him to a hospital? He racked his brain to remember the night before. He couldn't remember going to bed. He couldn't even remember them getting back to the motel. "What was the last thing that happened?" He whispered softly to himself as his mind raced.

Jumbled memories flashed in his mind; fragmented like a broken movie reel. They had been helping Bobby with a hunt. Another hunter had been killed. Sam searched his mind for more details but they eluded him. He couldn't remember even simple things; like what city they had been in.

Why was he here?

More broken images. He forced himself to focus. He recalled, they had split up. Sam and Dean had gone to check on one lead while Bobby had gone to track down another. That was when he and Dean had managed to find the thing they were hunting. He tried to piece the scattered memories together. There were too many gaps, like a puzzle with missing pieces.

He slid his legs over the edge of the bed then starred out at the room around him. He had to focus if he was going to make sense of anything. His mind felt like it was spinning a hundred miles an hour as it finally replayed the events from the night before.

* * * * * * * * * *

"Sam! Behind you!" Dean shouted, unfortunately his words were too late. He could only watch as his brother was flung across the room head first into a glass partition. The glass shattered, as hundreds of shards scattered everywhere. Sam landed with a sickening thud.

He felt the warm sticky blood ooze from his forehead. The thick red fluid slid gently down his face mixed with his sweat. The sting from the wound made it clear he had a large gash above his brow. He looked down through the thick blood, he could see that it had already formed a small puddle. He began to feel light headed. His vision blurred and doubled. He had to stop the bleeding. He pressed his hand to the wound and attempted to apply pressure However, it was in vain, he could feel his mind fog from the pain. His head throbbed so badly it felt like it was on fire.

He heard more scuffling from the background. 'Dean, needs my help,' he thought as he compelled himself to focus. He tried to push himself up, to command himself to rise, but the blood loss from the blow to his head was taking it's toll. He felt dizzy and the strong urge to throw up.. He barely managed to force himself to his feet. He teetered and staggered as he struggled to get his footing. He turned his attention to the conflict across the room. Sam's vision so blurred that he could barely make out his brother being slammed into a wall. Sam took a step toward the fight and found himself overcome. Then fell forward his eyes rolling back in his head as he scummed to the wound and passed out.

* * * * * * * * * *

Had Dean driven him to the hospital after the fight? Sam couldn't remember. In fact, he couldn't remember anything that had happened after he had passed out. Sam raised his hand to his face, he gently felt his forehead for signs of the wound. However, there were no bandages. No stitches. Sam shook his head. None of this made any sense. He continued to survey the room. There was no medical equipment in sight. No IV. No monitors. Nothing. The room was virtually empty from with the exception of his bed, a bureau that stood against one wall, and a table with two chairs over by the window. Through the curtain to his left he could make out the silhouette of a second bed and someone asleep.

He decided to get up and see what was on the other side of the veil that divided the room. He stood, his bare feet tingled as they touched the hard cold floor. He inched his way at first since he expected to be sore and have pain from the previous battle. But there was nothing. No pain. No aches. He felt fine. He knew he should have had a migraine from hitting his head. He should have felt the sharp sting of bruised ribs from the blows he had endured, or at the very least the ache of a pulled muscle. But there was nothing. Why would Dean have brought him here? Sam clearly wasn't injured.

He quietly walked around the room, he didn't want to wake whoever was resting in the other bed. He pulled back the curtain cautiously. He made and attempt to get a look at the other individual's face. However, they laid on their stomach and had their blanket almost covered their head entirely, which made it impossible.

As he continued to investigate he noticed two doors. He opened the first one, and found a bathroom. There was a simple shower no curtain or even shower rod. It was just partially walled off from the rest of the small room. Then there was a public style toilet and a small sink without a counter. Above the sink was a semi reflective material. It was clearly supposed to serve as a mirror even though it wasn't made of glass. He gazed at his reflection. Not a scratch on him. Even many of his old scars seemed lessened of gone all together. He pondered to himself, "How long was I out?" Sam began to worry that he had been here for a great deal of time.

Sam felt a sense of dread set in. He needed answers. Something felt very wrong about this place. He had to find Dean. He became determined to find a nurse, someone or anyone who might know what was going on. He hastily headed for the other door. He could see parts of the empty hall through the small window in the door. He jiggled the handle and discovered it was locked. "What the..." he muttered.

Why would the room be locked? What the hell was going on? He looked around the room once more. This didn't make sense; hospitals don't lock their patients in their rooms. He swiftly headed towards the window he hoped to find some clue about where he was, or possibly a way out. As he pulled the blinds open wide, he found bars on the windows.

He felt his heart pound against his chest. "Where am I?" He whispered to himself as the severity of his situation began to sink in.

* * * * * * * * * *

The sound of foot steps echoed in the hall, followed closely by the rattle of keys in the door. Sam turned instinctively as an orderly entered the room. Sam noted the man's name tag read: Carl.

"You're up early today Sam," slight surprise in Carl's voice, "You sleep ok last night?" He asked as he turned and pulled a small cart into the room. It was nearly covered by rows of tiny paper cups, some filled with water and others with pills of various sizes, shapes and colors.

Sam instantly felt uneasy. He ignored the man's question. Right now Sam had too many questions of his own. "What's going on?" His voice was shakier then he had intended.

"Med time just like always," he answered with a slight shrug. Then Carl picked up two of the small paper cups and extended them to Sam, "Usually I have to drag both of you out of bed in the morning for meds." the orderly smiled briefly, "At least one of you is awake on time this morning."

Sam shook his head, pushing the tiny cups away. "No...." he began, then paused and took a deep breath. He needed to stay calm. He had to figure this out. Things were getting weirder by the second, "I mean where am I and why am I here? What's going on?" He spoke slowly trying his best to make himself clear to the other man.

The orderly gazed at the young man with slight bewilderment, "You're at Langley Porter Psychiatric Hospital." He paused, as he lowered his hands, a concerned expression on his face, "don't you remember Sam?"

"No. I don't." Sam took a deep breath. This was becoming far too disturbing. What was he doing in a mental hospital? This wasn't right. None of it. His mind flooded with more questions then he could begin to express. He could feel his heart pounded rapidly as the stress within him swelled. "Look I don't belong here," the young man insisted. "I... I gotta get out of here."

"You know I can't do that Sam," the orderly explained, his voice trembling slightly. He could tell Sam was getting upset. That was never a good thing. Carl admittedly was a bit apprehensive of the young man, and for very good reason. Sam tendency for violent outbursts was legendary among the staff.

The Truth was no one wanted to be on shift when Sam was in the middle of one of his episodes. Sam had on more then one occasion accused staff members of being demons, ghosts, or various types of monsters. Once he had even held down a nurse and attempted an exorcise her. The event had left the poor woman so traumatized she resigned shortly after. Carl could tell Sam agitated which made it clear that today was going to be one of his bad days.

Sam attempted to push the majority of his questions aside. There was only one that mattered right now. Where was Dean? He took a deep breath and spoke, "listen I need to see my brother. Is he around?" Sam noticed the man's quizzical expression. So he clarified, "My brother, Dean." Sam's couldn't help the mixture of fear, frustration and confusion which filled his voice. He just wanted to know what was going on. He just wanted to talk to his brother. He wanted to know why he was here. And what had happened the night before. "Where's Dean?" He repeated his voice sounded angry this time.

There it was, he had asked for Dean. Sam always asked for Dean when he was having a bad day. This was because Sam believed that Dean was his big brother, even though Sam didn't have any siblings. Most of his stories consisted of the two of them traveling around the country stopping in small towns to fight the forces of evil and save the world.

It was quite sad to see the deterioration of what had once been a nice young man. To see him retreat into a fantasy world in order to escape the memories of his past which confronted him here. It was ironic that for Sam the fantasy was a safe haven considering the violent nature of his delusions.

Carl took a deep breath, he had to be on his guard with Sam in this sort of mood. "Sam," he spoke slowly, keeping his voice level and as calm as possible, "you do remember that Dean isn't real? Don't you?"

"What?" Sam asked incredulously, he was completely floored by what the other man had just said. "Of course he's real;" his voice shook with anger and fear, "he's my brother." What in the hell was this guy saying? "What in the hell is going on?"

Carl took a step back, "listen, I'll go get Doctor Miller."

"I don't need a doctor," Sam's voice raised, his anger toward the orderly's patronizing manner growing steadily. "I need to find my brother," his teeth clinched a bit as he spoke, "I need to find Dean." He felt the frustration well up inside him and could no longer fight the urge; he rushed at the shorter man. Sam grabbed hold of Carl's shoulders tightly. Sam's anger just took over as he shook the man violently.

"Get off of me!" The orderly yelled, as he managed to push Sam away. Carl quickly pushed the cart between himself and the deranged patient. He used the obstacle as an opportunity to reach the door. "I need some help in here," he called out, getting the attention of several other staff members. Within seconds several other orderlies and nurses filled the room.

The commotion woke the man in the other bed. He turned over noting the struggle, shrugged and then rolled back over in bed covering his head with his pillow and blanket.

One of the larger men grabbed Sam by the arm; Sam struggled against the tight grasp. He did all he could to break the man grip. However, the orderly was far too strong and Sam's efforts were wasted, as the man manged to grappled Sam's other arm as well.

Sam refused to give in so easily. In retaliation he raised his knee to connect with the man's midsection. This blindsided the man, and caused him to release his hold. He doubled over as the air was forced from his lungs.

Sam took advantage of the momentary distraction. The large orderly looked genuinely shocked as Sam's fist connected with his jaw. The resulting flash of red was followed by black for the orderly, as he fell to the floor. Sam launched himself towards the door. He pushed past two of the young women who stood between him and the exit. He was desperate to escape this nightmare, and didn't care who he had to go through to get free. The staff however, weren't about to let him go so easily.

Carl quickly stepped between Sam and the door, providing enough of an obstacle for the other staff to get a hold of Sam again. This time around they gripped him tighter. One of the men locked his arms around the young man's torso. He lifted Sam up into the air. As Sam kicked his legs out furiously another orderly took hold of Sam's legs. The patient struggled to free himself from the strong grasp of the orderlies. Then Carl grappled Sam's legs as well, the two men kept Sam from kicking himself free. Then he felt the grasp of two of the nurses as they locked on to his arms. He squirmed and struggled as the group carried him over to the bed. They held him down another nurse began to strap him in.

"Get off of me!" Sam shouted as he tried once more to kick free. "Dean!" It was no use. They had his arms strapped to the bed now and were in the process of strapping his legs down. Why was this happening? Where was Dean? He shouted out for his brother again, "Dean!"

It took every ounce of the group's strength to hold the young man down as he struggled, "Calm down Sam," one of them urged, as nervous glances were exchanged between each staff member. Sam was losing it today.

"He's going to need to be sedated," one of the men stated, as he finally managed to strap down the final leg.

"Quick 10 milligrams of madazapam," one of the nurses ordered, as another nurse rushed from the room. She returned seconds later with a syringe.

"Let me go!" Sam demanded as he felt the needle pierced his skin. "No... Let me go..." he pleaded. The cool rush of the medication flow through his veins. Seconds later he could feel his mind began to cloud, as the room began to blurr. His mind felt like it was swimming as the medication began to take full effect. "What are you doing?" He struggled against the dizziness. "Dean..." He felt groggy and disoriented, "Dean, where are...." he trailed off as he drifted into unconsciousness.

* * * * * * * * * *


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO  
It Was All A Bad Dream

"SAM!" Dean shouted out as the sound of shattering glass fractured the air. He watched his brother land in a heap amid the broken debris. Dean's first instinct was to run and check on his little brother. But Dean didn't have time to help Sammy right now. The hunter had to focus. So far the fight wasn't exactly going in their favor.

* * * * * * * * * *

Earlier that day:

The door to the motel swung open; Dean Winchester entered and tossed a newspaper down on the table in front of his brother, "There's been another one." This was the second victim since they had arrived, and there had been three others before that. "It's just like the others. Joe Average going about his day; then he just starts freaking out and hallucinating. A couple bank tellers had to restrain him till the cops got there."

The local authorities were beginning to worry that they were dealing with a medical epidemic. The boys might have agreed and not even bothered with this case if it weren't for the call from Bobby. The second victim had been Daniel Thorn, a friend of Bobby's, and a hunter. He had collapsed and began rambling about demons, monsters, and more. The doctors tried to help him but less then two days later he died after slipping into a coma. Bobby had caught wind of it and asked the boys to help him check it out.

Sam rubbed his eyes, he had been staring at his computer for hours and was no closer to the answer. He shut his laptop, frustrated that he was getting no where trying to find a connection between the victims. The only thing they had in common was what happened to them. Even with their theories the boys and Bobby were no closer to finding the thing responsible. Without knowing why or how it was picking it's victims they had little chance of finding it. More frustrating was the fact that each victim had collapsed in public, and none of the witnesses were the same. No common thread. There was no one they could link between the attacks. Which made their best guess, that some demon was taking people for joy rides before infecting the victims. But even that was just a theory.

* * * * * * * * * *

Sam and Dean caught up with Bobby at the First National Bank where the latest victim had been infected. They posed as CDC officials (a disguise that wouldn't fly for very much longer if there were any more victims; because the real CDC would show up). Once they convinced the manager they were who they claimed, they asked to see the security footage from the incident.

The manager showed them to the security office and granted, the men's request for privacy. The trio sat in front of the monitors watching the footage. They watched the victim standing in line with several other bank patrons. There was nothing that seemed out of the ordinary. Then the man in front of the victim finished his business. As the other man was leaving he bumped into the victim. Then the victim approached the teller, at first everything seemed normal. Then he began to look from side to side franticly. They wished the footage had audio. It would have helped to hear what was going on.

They could tell he was questioning the teller. He was acting paranoid. He became increasingly agitated, and it was obvious he was shouting. He then jumped the counter and began attacking the teller. Seconds later other employees came to the young woman's aid pulling the man off and holding him down.

"Rewind it." Sam ordered. He had clearly noticed something.

"What?" Dean asked as he began rewinding the tape. He past the chaos and was back to the men standing in line quietly.

"Stop." Sam pointed to the man who had bumped into the victim, "There. That guy..." Dean paused the tape the screen frozen on the man as he pocketed the roll of quarters he had received from the teller.

"What about him he wasn't at any of the other scenes." Bobby stated referring to the other camera footage they had managed to get on two of the other victims.

Sam noticed a copy of the same paper Dean had given him that morning. He grabbed the news paper from the desk then flipped it open to the obituaries. The youngest hunter pointed down at a photograph, "Look familiar?" The man in the photograph was the same man on the screen. The only problem was that he had died two days ago.

"What's a dead guy need with a roll of quarters?" Bobby asked. They had found their culprit.

* * * * * * * * * *

The Present:

Dean was facing off with a guy who was supposed to be dead. A guy who the hunters had thought was possessed by a demon. That theory had gone out the window rather quickly; since he had walked right out of the devil's trap they painted on the floor like it was just bad graffiti. Which meant he wasn't a demon; a fact that left them surprised and Sam injured. Now Dean had to think fast. What the hell was this thing.

It's flesh looked pale and the guy had been dead... Could he be a zombie? Dean tried to formulate a plan, as the two began to fight. If it was a zombie Dean would need silver. Even if it didn't kill the damn thing, it might at least get the guy to take off. That would give the hunters a chance to regroup and call Bobby. It would also give Dean a chance to check on Sammy.

Dean took another swing at the undead foe narrowly missing him, only to have the man grab Dean's arm and yank him slamming the hunter into the wall. The weak rotten wood of the abandoned house creaked from the impact. Dean flung his head backwards making contact with a head butt to the man's face.

Dean wished they had planned this out better. He also wished Bobby hadn't been following up on another lead. Why had he insisted they go in alone? He needed something silver if he was right, but his knife was out in the car.

The man stumbled back from the force of the head butt. Turning Dean saw Sam standing up. 'Good. He's ok, ' Dean felt somewhat reassured. Now they could take this guy down. Dean's fist quickly connected with the man's already broken nose. The man's hands raised; grabbing his face out of reflex. Another punch. The man's head spinning a bit. Another thud. 'Where was Sam?' Dean looked past his enemy, the thud had been Sam, as he fell back to the floor.

Caught off guard Dean felt a fist slam into his jaw. He staggered back. Once again the man rushed the hunter. This time the force sent the two of them through the weakened wall. They landed with a harsh thump on the floor. The old floor boards creaking beneath their bodies as the two combatants wrestled. Both of them trying to either attain or maintain top position. Then came the sound of wood splitting, as The floor gave way to their weight. They fell through to the basement below. The two men landing on a pile of rubble. Dean felt the wind knocked out of him from the sudden fall. Luckily his fall had been broken by his foe. His luck didn't last long.

The man shoved Dean off. The force sent the hunter sailing through the air; until he collided with the wall. Dean slammed against the brick surface, then fell to the floor. He quickly shook off the pain and began to pull himself up.

Had to keep fighting. Had to kill the thing. Had to help Sam.

Then the knee of his opponent connected with his torso. The force knocked the air out of him once more. Then another knee; this time to his face. The blow caused him to stumbled back into a stack of boxes, which fell down around him. He heard the thing growl. He looked at it snarling at him. It was preparing to rush him again. Then the hunter spotted a piece of splintered wood lying beside him. He scrambled to grab the broken floor board as the creature ran at him. Dean raised the sharp wooden implement just in time for the man to impale himself. Blood dripped from it's mouth as it went limp.

Breathing heavily, Dean shoved the lifeless thing off of him. He only took a second to catch his breath before the memory of Sam caught up with him. He scanned the room quickly noting the stairs. He ran back upstairs, through the house, back into the room where Sammy had been. "Sam!" His brother lay on the floor blood covering his face. Dean rushed to his side, grabbing his brother and pulling him up slightly. "Sammy! Wake up! SAM!"

* * * * * * * * * *

The Impala drove swiftly down the old country road. Dean pulled his cell out and dialed Bobby's Number. He had to let the other hunter know what was going on.

The phone rang only twice before the older hunter picked up, "Dean?"

"Yeah Bobby it's me." He decided not to start with what had happened to Sam, "Good news, I got the thing."

"That's great." Bobby felt relieved the hunt was finally over.

"Not so much. Sam kind of got knocked out."

"Is he alright?" Bobby's tone instantly becoming concerned.

"Yeah. I mean I think he will be. He's bleeding pretty good but it looks like something we can patch up quick." Dean looked over at his brother. Sam was still unconscious. Dean had wrapped a makeshift tourniquet around the wound. "Listen meet me back at the motel."

"Alright on my way." The two hunters hung up their phones.

Dean kept glancing from the road to the injured man beside him, "Come on wake up already," he muttered half under his breath.

A slight groan escaped the injured man's lips. "Dean?" Sam's voice almost a whisper. His head felt like it had been put into a blender. His mind a jumbled mess. Where was he? "Where's Dean?" he muttered as his thoughts became words.

"I'm right here Sam," Dean answered, as he tried to split his attention between the road and his brother.

Sam heard the familiar voice. "Dean?" he questioned hopeful and relieved to hear the sound of Dean's voice. The relief only lasted a moment as the nausea and dizziness became all consuming. Suddenly Sam lurched forward and vomited, covering the dashboard and floor in front of him.

"Dude my car." Dean responded more out of reflex then anything else.

Sam slumped back his eyes fluttering. His vision was blurred. He could just make out vague shapes. He became aware of the feeling of the sticky blood drying on his face. Where was he? It was dark. The engine. He could hear the car engine. Was he in the Impala? His ears ringing. "Dean? What happened?" His mind starting to put together the pieces.

"You took a pretty good hit, when that guy knocked you out," Dean explained.

"The hospital?"

Dean shook his head, "It's ok Sam. It's not that bad." He reassured his brother. "We're on the way to the motel. Bobby and I will patch you up." There was no need to deal with all the questions that would come if they went to the hospital.

"No I was there... I was...." Sam tried to explain, but darkness began to fill his mind again. He could feel his mind swirling as he slipped back into unconsciousness...

* * * * * * * * * *

"Sam... Sam can you hear me?"

Sam began to come around the soft sound of a woman's voice filling his ears. His mind swimming and churning. What had happened? It felt like a dream. Fragmented bits and pieces. Dean. A fight. A hospital. It didn't make sense.

"Sam? Are you with me?"

The voice came again. His eyes still too heavy to open. He doubted that they would be able to focus even if he could manage to open them. Why was he having such trouble waking up? What had happened? Why was that voice so familiar? A small moan escaped his throat. It wasn't just his eyelids that felt heavy. His whole body felt like it was weighted down by cinder blocks. His kinesthetic senses beginning to become more aware. He was in a bed. He could tell that much, but couldn't feel the weight of a blanket. He noted a sensation in his wrists. Something was around them. He tried to move his limbs. They felt like they were made of stone. He could barely move them, but it wasn't just because of the way he felt. He knew now he was bound to the bed.

Fear began to fill his mind. The hunt with Dean...

Had something gone wrong? God Dean. Was he ok? Who had them?

"Sam, It's Doctor Miller. Can you hear me?"

Doctor who? The voice was so familiar. What was going on. Sam mustered all the energy he could and opened his eyes. The bright sting of florescent light burning from above. The room a blurry jumble of shadow and shapes. White all around him. The shape of a woman slowly taking form. His mind still swimming. Still unable to focus his eyes, a soft whimper from his lips. He was trying to speak but finding it as difficult as opening his eyes. It felt like he had been drugged. More swirling memories. The hospital... had they done something there. Why would he have been at a hospital. Nothing made sense.

"Sam, Do you know where you are?"

"Wha..." a small sound escaped his dry lips. The feeling of thirst. His mouth dry. More dizziness.

"Do you know where you are?"

His eyes focusing more he could see now that she had blond hair. That voice... was so familiar.

"Sam..."

His limbs were starting to feel lighter as time past. His eyes focusing more. Then he made out her face.

* * * * * * * * * *


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE  
Spinning In Your Head

"Dean..." Sam's mind slipping back and forth between the impala and the hospital. "Dean..." He tried to sit up the restrains holding him back. The disorientation was slowly fading as he realized his surroundings. Dean was gone. The Impala gone. Why was this happening? his mind was a wash with memories from both realities. Mixed and woven together in an incoherent tapestry. He had to hold on to what was real. He had to hold on to his memories of Dean.

"Dean's not here Sam," she reminded him. She could tell he was in the mist of one of his delusions. She would have to be delicate. Careful not to upset him again.

"Where's my brother?"

"Sam," the soft female voice of Dr. Miller spoke, "do you remember me?"

He attempted to focus on the woman. His mind was a mix of scrambled memories, those of Dean and his life hunting. Of his father and living on the road. And other memories that were sneaking into his mind that he didn't recognize. Although he knew he had never meant her before, he did, in fact, remember her. "Doctor Miller?" his voice unsure. He didn't understand why he remembered her. Why she was so familiar. He had small fragments of memories of her. Memories of talking to her before. Memories of sessions with her. None of them were whole. None complete only bits and pieces. Why would he have these memories, this was only a dream. It had to be a dream. He could still remember his life hunting so much clearer. This place felt foreign, strange and yet at the same time familiar. Why?

She smiled faintly, "Yes Sam it's me. It's good to have you back." She was relieved that he was coherent for the moment. In his lucid periods she had the best chance to reach him.

"Sam, do you know where you are?" She asked trying to get him to come back to reality. Trying to get him to remember where he was.

His eyes focusing again. What was going on. He was just in the Impala. How did he get here. Wait the dream. It was a dream wasn't it? It had to be. He looked at the woman before him, remembering where he was, he muttered, "the hospital."

"Good," He was at least aware of his surroundings. This would at least make things easier. "Yes you are in a mental institution. Do you remember what happened?"

"There was a fight I was... I hit my head." He tried to connect the pieces. "Is Dean alright?"

She took a step back. She knew how violent Sam could get if he was provoked. "Sam you need to focus. It's me Doctor Miller. You had an episode. We had to restrain you again. Do you remember?"

"How did I get here?"

"Sam, you've been here for the nearly four years."

"No. No." He jerked and pulled at the restraints. His strength failing him. "Dean! DEAN!" This was wrong. It had to be a dream. A delusion. He had hit his head in the fight. He needed to wake up.

"Dean isn't real Sam. None of it is real. There are no demons to fight. No spirits. Those things aren't real and neither is Dean." She could tell this was going to be a long day. She tried to keep her voice clam and even.

"Wake up Sam. Wake up," he said to himself.

"Sam you are awake. You need to stay with me. Each time you revert to the fantasy you only make it more real to yourself. You need to deal with the truth."

"This isn't real. It isn't..." his voice trailing off his mind spinning. It felt like his whole body was being whirled around in a cyclone yet he could tell he wasn't moving. "This isn't real."

"It is real Sam. You need to face it. We have been making great progress lately, I'd hate to see you relapse and fall back into your paranoid delusions." She looked at him with concern, "You can get better Sam you don't have to let the past and what happened do this to you. Your medication and our sessions have been working. Please Sam stay with me here. Just focus on my voice. This is real. This is reality. You don't have to flee to such a dark and violent world."

* * * * * * * * * *

Bobby re-entered the motel room, carrying ice. "How's he doing?" He walked over to the bathroom and grabbed a towel then began bundling up some of the ice to make a new compress for Sam.

"He's still out." Dean sat by the bed keeping watch over his little brother. "I wish he'd just wake up already."

Bobby looked down examining Sam. He was beginning to get concerned. He removed the old towel. The cut was doing ok. It had looked much worse then it was. Head injuries were like that even a small one would bleed like crazy. It wasn't the cut that worried him tho, since they had stopped the bleeding. What worried him was the knot that had formed, and the fact that Sam hadn't came to. He would occasionally mutter a few words but nothing more. He put the new ice pack on the young man's head. "I think we've waited long enough. He should have woke up by now. He ain't."

"I know." Dean rubbed his face. They had been hoping that it wasn't serious just some of the typical triage they were used to taking care of themselves. That way there would be no need to go to the hospital. Plus it wasn't like they hadn't taken care of worse cuts. However, it was clear now that Sam needed a doctor.

"I'll get the car ready." Bobby offered as he headed back out of the room.

Dean was left alone with his younger brother. He leaned forward, "Come on Sam, you got to wake up." He wondered if Sam could even hear him, "I mean it's not like I can make another deal, you know. So you have to wake up. Alright?" He tried to joke but even he couldn't make light of things. "Can you hear me? Cause if you can you have to wake up." Still nothing. Sam remained motionless. "I can't fight this war without you." A single tear began to slide from his eye. Dean quickly wiped it as he heard the door begin to open, it was Bobby, and it was time to go.

* * * * * * * * * *

Sam lay in the back seat of the Impala. Slowly drifting into semi-consciousness again. He had been in the front seat. Why was he in the back now. He glanced around eyes blurry, Dean.... and Bobby... He was about to speak but the dizziness was too much. Laying down while moving in the car was only making it worse. The street lights blinding him as they passed each one. He tried to shut his eyes to settle the swimming feeling in his head. He muttered softly, "Where are we?"

The occupants in the front seat however, didn't hear him, and appeared to be unaware Sam was awake. He tried to muster himself to speak again. But the swirling was too much. He began to feel faint again.

"Sam!" Doctor Miller was above him shining a light in his eyes. He was unresponsive. She took a syringe and injected Sam with medication. "Sam, come on stay with me," she pleaded. She didn't want him to revert into the fantasy. He needed to hold on. They had come too far over the past few years. Sam began to come around slowly. His eyes blinking in response to the light now. Doctor Miller took a deep breath, "Good. That's right keep hold, you can do it." She urged him on.

"Dean, Bobby..."

"No Sam. That's the fantasy. You need to focus. You can do this. You have made so much progress. Please don't relapse again."

"We were in the car."

"It's just a dream Sam."

"But..." His mind couldn't make sense which was real. Was this real? Was Dean? Dean had to be real. He had to be. Why would he fantasize about a world like that? This couldn't be real. Right?

* * * * * * * * * *

Bobby and Dean carried the younger man into the emergency room. "My brother's been hurt. Can somebody help us?" Dean asked getting the attention of a couple of nurses, and a doctor.

"What happened?" The doctor questioned as he motioned to the nurses to bring over a gurney. Seconds later the young man was lying on the bed as the doctor began to look him over.

"There was a fight. He got knocked out." Dean would worry later about making up believable details that didn't involve something supernatural. For now simple and true would probably be better.

"We stopped the bleeding and got ice on it." Bobby added.

"Let's get him to exam one people," the doctor declared, as the group began to wheel off the gurney and young hunter.

Dean grabbed the doctor's arm before he could follow, "Is he gonna be alright?"

"You need to step back sir, let us do our job." Dean reluctantly let go and watched as his brother disappeared into the exam room with the hospital staff.

* * * * * * * * * *

"I need a CT, we need to see how severe the damage might be." The doctor ordered as he shut the clip board and exited the room to scheduled the procedure with radiology.

Moments later one of the nurses was wheeling Sam down the hall on the stretcher.

"Dean..." Sam whispered. He could hear people talking around him, the sounds of an intercom. He tried to latch on to the sound of the voices around him. Everything felt like it was moving so quickly. The lights above were so bright. He wasn't in the Impala any more. Was it the dream? No this was different.

He tried to sit up. "You need to lie down, sir." one of the nurses said as she gently pushed him back down on the gurney. "Please just lie still, you're going to be alright. I'm taking you for a CT."

"My brother....."

"He's just out in the lobby. Do you remember what happened?" She began questioning him unsure how long he would remain conscious and knowing any more information she could get could help them to take care of him.

"He's here..." Sam trailed off somewhat relieved. He shut his eyes to block out the florescent lights as they glared down one after the other as he was pushed down the hall. "I need to see my brother." he added hoping the nurse would get him as soon as possible.

"Sam I can help you but only if you stay with me."

No not that voice again. He slowly opened his eyes, "No... I was back... No." Again his surrounding had become the mental hospital. Again he was still strapped to the bed.

* * * * * * * * * *


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR  
Retrace The Years

It had taken a while but Sam had finally calmed down. It had been one of his worst episodes in weeks. Doctor Miller had reluctantly agreed to let him out of the restraints, as long as he agreed to take his medication with no more objections. He also had to attend group and his private session later in the day. She knew that the routine they had built over the past years was always a good way to help him maintain a hold on reality.

She walked past the community room to check on him. He sat there watching television. She stopped and spoke to one of the orderlies, "hey Carl, how has he been?"

"Quiet so far, but I'm not sure this is a good idea."

"The routine helps. Just keep a close eye on him. If he needs to be restrained again we'll deal with that then."

Carl nodded and turned his attention back to the patients.

Doctor Miller continued on to her office. She shut the door behind herself, and took a deep breath. Finally a chance to sit down. It had been a long morning, between rounds, Sam, and her other patients. She was already feeling exhausted, and it was still an hour till lunch.

She laid down her stack of files, on the top was Sam's file. She sat down and picked up his file. "Well today is the big day," she said to herself, as she opened the file to go over it again in preparation.

The file was thick, stuffed full of clippings, notes, and details of the various medical treatments they had tried, his whole history. She flipped through it for a few minutes examining the pages. It had been quite a road that led the young man here.

* * * * * * * * * *

News Article:  
November 2, 1983

Woman found brutally murdered. Early this morning firefighters were called to the scene of a house fire by neighbors. When they arrived they managed to contain the blaze. When questioned, Fire chief Fitzpatrick said, "It was a clear case of arson." The most disturbing discovery was to come. Police examined the scene and found the remains of one, Mary Winchester, brutally murdered then burned.

The coroner has established the cause of death as homicide saying, "The young woman was beaten severely. These injuries were serious however she was then stabbed repeatedly in the abdomen. She was very likely still alive when she was set on fire." He continued later in the interview saying, "This was the most gruesome murder I've even seen."

Authorities have been unable to find her husband John Winchester for questioning. Neighbors have said he seemed to be easily angered. He and Mary had separated a year before. Mary's uncle had this to say, "John used to beat her, it was after he finally broken her arm after getting drunk that she left him." Her surviving family is particularly concerned for the whereabouts of the couples young son, Sam. Sam Winchester is four years old, the court had awarded custody to Mary in the divorce; however, John was fighting for visitation rights.

The day before the fire a neighbor who wishes to remain anonymous stated, "John showed up at the house drunk and demanding to see Sammy." The police were called to scene and had to force John to leave the property.

They are now very concerned for the welfare of the young boy who may have been witness to his mother's slaying. They do believe he is alive but in danger. Police urge anyone with any information on the whereabouts of John Winchester to contact authorities immediately. They also caution, as he is their prime suspect. He is considered to be armed and dangerous. Authorities caution that the no one in the public should attempt to apprehend him. If anyone has any information or has seen either John or Sam winchester please contact local or state police immediately.

The article also featured a mug shot of John along with a photo with Mary and Sam.

* * * * * * * * * *

Police Report:  
of officer Michael Murry  
March 17, 1989  
Pontiac, Illinois

We were called to the Astoria Hotel by Charles Martin the desk clerk. He believed one of the occupants had abandoned a young boy there. When we arrived there we found a 10 year-old boy alone in the room. He claimed his father had just left for a few minutes and would be back soon. Upon interviewing other occupants we found that no one had seen the father since he had paid for the week four days before.

We turned the boy over to social services. His identity was later confirmed to be that of Sam Winchester a child who had gone missing at the age of four six years prior. This father John Winchester was wanted in an on going investigation into the murder of Mary Winchester.

Further investigation lead us to believe that John was also responsible for the death of a local woman Margret Wilson. We found evidence at the scene including finger prints and video footage from a security camera.

Upon putting the prints into the database we found they had also been at the scene of at least 10 other murder investigations in several states. It appears that he is connected with or at least has information about the crimes. He is the prime suspect in all the other cases. He is presumed armed and dangerous.

We continued to stake out the Hotel in hopes of apprehending the man and questioning him. However, after two week he has still not surfaced nor has any further leads about his whereabouts.

Sam has since been placed into foster care where he will remain until another living family member can be located.

* * * * * * * * * *

Medical Report:  
Doctor Lewis Hendricks  
August 27, 1993

This was my final session with Sam Winchester. His Uncle and Aunt had brought him to see me after receiving custody of the young boy. Sam had been abducted by his father and held captive for six years, after witnessing his mother's death.

In trying to cope with the reality of what his father did and how abusive his father was to him Sam developed an imaginary friend of sorts. He created a brother he calls Dean. This was in part a way to create a stable and loving familiar bond which he lacked. It was also a way to retreat from the abuse. Over time Sam's "brother" became an alternate personality would look out for Sam. The Dean persona would seek approval from his father, and would try to shield Sam from the abuse.

When I first received Sam's file I was concerned I would not be able to help this boy. His father is wanted in connection with multiple homicides. In fact, authorities have been in contact with me frequently over the past three years in hopes that Sam would be able to provide information or evidence in his father's case.

However, Sam has blocked out even the memories of his mother's death. His father would leave him alone for long periods of time, in fact. Leaving the boy alone in motels even at the age of just five.

I have managed to get him to manifest the Dean persona in order to confront him with what happened to his mother. According to "Dean" their mother was killed by a demon and their father tried to save her. He says he didn't see it because he had to carry Sam out of the fire. However, he has described in detail that she was pinned against the ceiling her stomach bleeding, before bursting into flames. This is most likely the result of his father's influence, and in part due to the imagination of a toddler trying to make sense of what he witnessed.

It has taken me over three years now to merge the memories of the two personalities. In the course I have used hypnosis to help unlock the buried memories as well as to help merge them.

I am referring him to another specialist to continue his therapy. While I have combined the personalities and repaired the fracture he still has much to deal with. He now has to learn to cope with the memories and his past in a more healthy way. Doctor Greg Taylor will continue where I have left off. His Aunt and Uncle are moving in hopes that a fresh start will aid in his recovery. I have to agree with this decision. While living here in Lawrence has helped him to reconstruct his memories a fresh start could help him learn to deal with them.

* * * * * * * * * *

Doctor Miller shut the file after looking over those any many more notes and articles. She then turned to her computer. She began typing.

* * * * * * * * * *

Sam Winchester's case came to my attention four years ago. He was brought in after being apprehending in a domestic disturbance, in which he attacked his finance Jessica Moore. She had confronted him after he returned from a trip he claimed he took with his brother. She had been worried when he failed to answer her calls and had gone through his things finding a phone number for his Uncle and Aunt. Upon calling them she had found out that he did not have a brother. She also learned of his time in counseling for trying to deal with his imagined brother. When he was confronted by these facts he lashed out, attacking her and setting fire to their apartment. Luckily neighbors were able to stop Sam. Emergency crews arrived and put out the fire and rushed the seriously injured Jessica to the hospital. Sam was taken into custody.

I have attributed Sam's relapse to the sudden re-appearance of his father. John Winchester made contact with his son by phone. It was this call that lead Sam to Jericho, California. It was there that Sam confronted his father. Police found John dead in the home of Constance Welsh. Constance and her children were also found dead. Time of death puts the deaths of the family prior to Sam's arrival and when he was still with Jessica. This at least means that Sam was not responsible for those deaths. When Sam arrived he found his father there with the dead bodies. His father insisted that the demon that killed Mary Winchester had resurfaced, and that something larger was starting. He wanted Sam to come with him to hunt the demon. This was when Sam confronted him. There was a struggle, and Sam killed his father.

After evaluation it became clear that Sam was not mentally competent to stand trail, and that he was suffering from mental illness. The courts agreed, and he was instead remanded to this psychiatric facility to receive the rehabilitation he needed.

I believe it was the killing of his father that caused the previous fracture in his mind to re-appear. However, the guilt, and surfacing memories made the fracture worse. He began to sink into a fantasy world. Often becoming unresponsive to myself and staff. Upon waking he would tell extraordinary stories. Claiming he was, in fact, traveling across country with his brother "Dean" trying to find their father. This delusion continued. He began to fashion an elaborate world where he was a hero hunting down evil and saving people. After the "death" of his father in this fantasy world his guilt re-surfaced and manifested by a shift in his world where he became a sort of anti-Christ figure. This shift has continued and is now causing a rift between he and his brother in the fantasy. He also claims that he and his brother are in the mist of a war between heaven and hell. Where actual demons and angels often inter act with them. In this war Sam has even had trouble defining his place as to weather he is going to bring about the end of the world or save it.

The lines often are blurred as some of the angels are more cold and cruel while a demon has found it's way to becoming Sam's paramour. The introduction of the "Ruby" figure may in part be due to the guilt he feels for attacking Jessica. However, I believe it goes deeper then that. It shows that his world is unraveling. His bond between himself and Dean is weakening, and he uses his new bond with Ruby as a way to hold onto the fantasy.

I have been working with him trying to keep him from retreating to this world, which is continually degrading. The latest episode was the first in several weeks. I am hopeful however, that he can be helped. In his fantasy the "demon" responsible for his woes also killed Jessica. Today I am going to be attempting to shatter the illusion of the fantasy world. Jessica wishes to see him. I have turned down her previous requests, over the past year. I have interviewed her, and she does not hold Sam responsible for what happened. She knows that his psychosis is the result of what he went through as a child and the abuse by his father. And while I do worry what effect this could have on Sam to see her again, I know that this could also be key to getting him to hold on to reality and not give in to the fantasy.

* * * * * * * * * *


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE  
In The Dream Domain

The dreary eyed effects of the drugs where finally starting to wear off. Sam had been sitting in the community room, his eyes vacantly starting at the television. Other patients sat around the room either playing board games, doing puzzles, or watching TV. A sea of robes and pajamas filling the room. He looked up at the clock hours had past, but it hadn't felt like it. It's a dream he tried to remind himself. Or was it the drugs. He could tell they were wearing off. He began to look around the room. It was open to the main hall which lead to each of the individual rooms. A couple of windows were along one side. Those wouldn't be any help, thanks to the bars. It was just like his room. Along the other side of the room was the nurses desk. It was closed off in a little glass enclosed room. Electronic locks there to keep patients out. Beside it another door with the same kind of lock. It was plain however, except for a window with a slide door.

He remembered, that's the drug storage closet; where they get all the meds from. Why did he remember that? He shook his head. Trying to shake odd memories from his mind. Memories of being here. He continued to look around. Another door beside the nurses station. It was barred and obviously locked but there was no key pad. He watched as a doctor approached it to enter. Then a nurse buzzed him in. The exit. Of course, the only way to open the lock was in the nurses station.

There had to be a way out. Some way out of this nightmare.

"Hey buddy."

Sam turned to see a straggly man standing beside him. He looked somewhat familiar but Sam couldn't place him. "Wha.."

"Shh..." The man's eyes darted around the room. Looking at the other patients. Glaring at a few and making them look way. Then he looked back at Sam, noting the slightly glassy stare. "They dosed you good this time huh?"

"Who are you?"

"Who am I?" He gave a huff, "Who are you is more the question now isn't it?" His eyes darting around the room again. "There... ah huh... good..." he motioned behind them, and Sam looked. The orderly who was watching the room had turned heading to the meds closet. "Not much time. Not much time."

"What..."

"Shh... Listen, you can't take the meds. Puts you off your game. Messes up the plan. Remember the plan."

"What are you talking about?"

"Right. Right. Not the place. Too many eyes. Too many ears." His eyes darting around the room again, making eye contact with another patient. The odd man gave a grunt, "What you looking at?" His voice raising.

His outburst was quickly followed by the demanding voice of one of the nurses from the station, "Ted. Quiet down."

He waved to the woman, "My bad... Won't happen again." Then he turned back to Sam his voice a whisper again, "Listen Sammy you just play it cool ok. No more incidents like this morning. You don't want them pissed. Just follow the plan."

Sam looked at the man confused, "What plan?"

"Later, here comes Carl." he scratched his head. "Time for all us nuts to take out meds." He motioned to the closet door, it's window now open and a tray of little paper cups resting there. Out front a nurse pulled over a small cart with other paper cups and a pitcher of water. "Remember don't swallow."

"Come on everyone line up." The deep voice of Carl called out to the room as the sea of robes rose and obeyed. The patients blindly following one another like zombies, mindless and vacant.

Ted also rose and motioned for Sam to do the same. They took their place in line. Ted making Sam go ahead of him. "You first."

One after another the patients took their cup of pills and another of water. One by one they moved slowly through the line. Each in turn taking the medication. Each patient in turn opening their mouths and being checked to make sure they swallowed the meds. Each waiting for the nurse to be satisfied and let them move along. Then came Sam's turn. He took the two small cups. How was he going to manage this?

Sam watched the nurses routine. She checked throughly to make sure that the patient didn't just hide the drugs and not swallow. He stepped in front of her. He paused looking down at the cups, "Come on Sam we haven't got all day." she stated impatiently. He raised the cups to his lips and tossed in the pills then followed with the water. He swallowed the water pushing the pills under his tongue. He had to think fast. She was about to look in his mouth when Ted shoved him. Knocking him to the floor. Sam used the opportunity to spit the pills into his hand hiding them.

"Ted!" Carl's voice boomed.

"Right Sorry. My bad." Ted straightened up trying to act as though it was an accident.

Sam picked himself up slipping the pills into his pocket carefully. Sam then opened his mouth for the nurse, and she examined it. Then she motioned for Sam to move on. Then it was Ted's turn. He looked down at the cup. "Some time today," the nurse grew impatient.

Ted looked up and grinned. Then he threw the cups into the air. "Care to dance?" He asked not waiting for a response, he grabbed the nurse and began to spin her around in a sloppy sort of mock waltz.

That was when chaos began to break out. Carl quickly came from the closet, pushing other patients out of the way. Some of the small cups of both pills and water dropping to the floor. Patients began to freak out. One man dropped to the floor and began to pick up the pills trying to stuff them into his mouth. Nurses rushed from the station two of them hurried to the man and tried to stop his gorging of meds. Other patients began to scream, some began to fight, others to dance along with Ted and his new partner. His partner however, wasn't in a very musical mood. She tried to pull away from Ted.

Orderly ran down the halls. Doctors rushing to the scene. Soon the room was filled with doctors, orderlies, and nurses trying to rein in the chaos. Sam moved back along the wall trying not to draw any attention. He moved along the wall towards the door to the station. Trying to get behind one of the staff. Maybe he could lift one of the id cards. In the chaos it might take them a while to figure out who took it. He moved behind a pair of patients who were fighting. The two men pushing shoving and hitting one another; while two orderlies attempted to break up the fight. Sam got in close about to attempt to swipe the badge hanging from the orderly's belt. The orderly felt a fist connect with his jaw. He staggered back his elbow connecting with Sam's head in the process. The sharp pain of he elbow hitting near Sam's temple disorientated him. He felt the orderly back into him; the two of them losing their footing.

He felt the orderly get backup quickly still trying to stop the fight and not taking note of the young man he landed on. Sam tried to shake off the hit to the head. Shutting his eyes and literally trying to shake way the sensation.

* * * * * * * * * *

Dean paced back a forth in the lobby. What was taking so damn long? They had, had Sam back there for hours now. No one would tell him what was going on. He had tired asking the nurses, even tried flirting with them to find out something. All he ever got was "They're running some tests. The doctor will be with you as soon as they have the results."

So where in the hell was the doctor?

"Boy you got to sit down you're making' me dizzy." Bobby stated. He could tell Dean was worried but pacing back and forth and grabbing every one wearing a lab coat the way he had been doing wasn't going to help. Hell Bobby was worried too. But all they could do was wait. Sam was in good hands.

"I should have came straight here Bobby," Dean stopped pacing to look at the older hunter. Dean couldn't help but feel guilty for what happened. He had been in such a rush to take case after case, trying to rack up some sort of tally. And for what? To help ease his guilt. A lot of good it did.

"Stop that. You stop that right now, you hear me." Bobby ordered as he stood up to face the young man who was like a son to him. "You did what you could. It didn't look that bad, and you don't need to be blaming' yourself." His tone reminded Dean so much of his father just then.

Still Dean couldn't shake what he felt, "I should have brought him straight here. But I was worried about a paper trail..."

Bobby grabbed his shoulders, "Dean, this wasn't your fault. And you and I both know you boys are experienced in patching' each other up. Sam would have done the same thing in your shoes."

The two stood there in silence for a while Bobby unsure how else to comfort Dean. While Dean internally blamed himself for what happened. "Listen you sit down, I'll try to find out what's groin' on." Bobby said. He watched Dean reluctantly take a seat in one of the waiting room chairs, before heading towards the nurses station to attempt again to get information.

* * * * * * * * * *

Bobby was still talking to the nurse when one of the doctors approached Dean, "Mr. Rockenfield?" The young looking doctor asked.

Dean stood quickly, "Yeah," he answered, without giving the man a chance to respond he continued, "Is my brother ok?" Dean couldn't help but be anxious.

"We don't know for sure yet," he was about to continue but the young man before him wouldn't give him the chance.

"What do you mean?" Dean's voice filled with fear, and concern. He didn't like where this was going. Since he had gotten Sam back in his life he hadn't seen his brother so bad off. He began to realize what it must have been like for Sam to see him in the hospital both when he had suffered damage to his heart then after the car accident. It was terrifying.

"You need to realize your brother suffered a bad head injury. We've ran several tests..."

Dean cut the man off, "Is he going to be alright?" Dean needed an answer. He didn't want to hear about test he just wanted to hear that Sammy would be alright. They had so much going on. Too many things left unsaid.

"We won't know until he wakes up," sympathy filled the man's eyes.

Dean swallowed hard. He didn't want this to be happening, but it was. And he had to deal with that. "Can I see him?"

"Yes, of course." The doctor nodded.

* * * * * * * * * *


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX  
The Dream Is Over

Sam began to wake up, the bright florescent lights of the hospital room that shone down on him. He was in bed again. What happened? The fight; he must have been knocked out. He began looking around, everything was blurry. Had he been drugged again. His eyes slowly focused on the room. This wasn't his room. Where was he now?

There was an IV in his arm. Monitors. He continued to examine the room. The door; it was open. He could get out. Had to hurry before they came back. He forced himself to sit up. He pulled his legs over the edge of the bed. He pulled the small pulse oximeter from his finger. Then the rest of wires connecting him to the medical monitors. Then the IV. The monitors began to beep their alarms going off. He had to hurry. The door. Not much time.

He pulled himself to his feet. A cold draft wafted up the hospital gown he was wearing. He grabbed the gown and held it closed. He took a step, and slipped a bit. He managed to grab the chair in front of him for support, just as a nurse entered the room.

"Oh god." She stared in disbelief a second before yelling out into the hall, "He's awake." She felt him grab her shoulder, as she turned to face him. The injured man gripped her tightly. "Sir you need to lay back down."

"No..." He pulled himself up, "Gotta go... find Dean...."

She tried to steer the man back to his bed but Sam wouldn't allow it. He mustered up enough strength to shove her away. The young woman fell to the floor. Then he stumbled towards the door; he grabbed the frame to balance himself once again.

He could see down the hall... The door. The way out. Then came the orderlies, and nurses. "No! Dean.... Let me go... Gotta find my brother...." He struggled as hard as he could against the incoming crowd of medical personal.

* * * * * * * * * *

The physician lead Dean and Bobby down the hall towards the ER. Ahead a commotion of staff members rushing into one of the rooms. "Wait here." the doctor ordered the two of them. Then he quickly headed for the exam room.

"DEAN!?!"

Dean heard his brother call out for him, and he was quickly on the heels of the doctor.

In the room ahead, orderlies hold the limbs of the young man to the bed. "LET ME GO... I HAVE TO FIND DEAN!" Sam screamed as he struggled with the staff members who tried to hold him in the bed. The adrenaline was rushing through his body helping him to find his strength. "NO.... NO DON'T!" He yelled as they begin to strap him to the bed. "NO NOT AGAIN! I'M NOT CRAZY LET ME GO!"

Dean turned the corner behind the doctor to see his brother kicking and trying to fight his way free from the straps being placed on his wrists and ankles. "Sam!?!"

Sam looked up to see his brother, "Dean... You're here!" He smiled for a brief moment as he made eye contact with his brother through the den of people. "Tell them Dean... Tell them I'm not crazy... the monsters they're real. You have to get me out of here." The young hunter franticly tugged and pulled against the restraints. And orderly pushed down on his shoulders and chest to hold him still.

The doctors, and nurses tried to work quickly to hook hims back to the monitors. "Just calm down," one said again in vein.

"We need to sedate him," the lead resident called out. A moment later one of the nurses approached the bed with a syringe.

"No... No... Don't let them drug me Dean... Don't let them do this..." Sam pleaded.

Dean took a step forward, "Stop, what's going on?"

"You need to go outside. Now sir. Let us do our job." The doctor instructed him.

Dean didn't listen he pushed forward through the crowd. "Sam it's ok I'm here clam down."

"Get him out of here!" The doctor yelled. Then Dean felt the grip of an orderly on his arm.

He shook off the man, "He's my brother!"

"And my patient. Let me do my job." The doctor managed to get between Dean and Sam. Then two of the orderlies escorted Dean from the room.

The older hunter stood there in the hall all he could do was watch as the chaos unfolded in the room through a pane of glass. He watched as they injected Sam with the sedative. His brother still crying out for him.

"Dean! DEAN! Help me! Please.... No..." Sam could feel the cold surge of medication as it flowed through his veins. "Not again... Not again... Dean?!?"

Dean and Bobby both stood there in the hall as Sam slipped back into unconsciousness. His body began to fall limp as his eyes drifted shut.

* * * * * * * * * *

Dean stood there powerless as his brother lay strapped to the bed. Medical staff finally dispersed after they had sedated his brother. Why was this happening? Sam had just woke up. Damn it. He had been awake and they put him out again.

The doctor exited the room, "Mr. Rockenfield," he looked at Dean with concern, "we need to discuss what's happening."

"Is he ok?" Dean asked quickly. All he cared about was if Sam was ok.

"He'll be out for a while..." he paused briefly, "I need to ask you a few questions regarding your brother's condition."

Dean looked at the man slightly confused, and merely nodded.

"Does your brother have a history of mental instability?"

"What? Sam?" Dean shook his head, it was an almost unbelievable question. "No." He answered flatly. Dean looked back at the room at his brother with concern. Something didn't feel right about this.

"Can you think of any reason he would have acted the way he did?" He looked back and forth between the two men. "Either of you?"

"No." Dean responded without taking his eyes off his brother.

Bobby shook his head. "He's never had anything like this happen before."

"What about a family history of mental illness?"

"No." Dean repeated annoyed with the line of questioning.

"Listen there's no history. He was fine before he took the hit to the head." Bobby responded. He could tell that Dean was getting upset. The last thing they needed was Dean losing his temper.

The doctor took a deep breath, "Your brother seemed to be having a psychotic break. The nursed told me before we arrived he was raving about monsters and demons. Are you sure there is nothing you can tell me? Has he taken anything? Does he have a history of drug abuse? Drinking? Anything? I need to know, if we are going to treat him correctly."

"I told you no." Dean responded coldly looking back at the man. If anyone drank too much it was Dean. And he knew his brother wasn't crazy. Dean knew that for a fact; Dean also knew that something else was going on here. "I want to see my brother."

"He's been sedated he won't be awake for at least a couple of hours."

"I want to see my brother now." Dean repeated, he wasn't taking no for an answer.

"Very well. But we need to run several more tests, so it will have to be quick." The doctor was also feeling annoyed. He could tell there was something that Dean wasn't telling him, and he knew it was important. Damn it, why wouldn't he just give a straight answer. How did this guy expect to have his brother treated if he wouldn't corporate.

Dean nodded then walked past the doctor into the room.

* * * * * * * * * *

Bobby stood in the hall and watched Dean in the room with his brother. He could tell he was talking to his little brother; Bobby's heart went out to the boys. He was hoping against hope that Sam was going to be alright. And he knew there was more going on here then the doctors could handle. He stood there and waited for Dean. Waited for a chance to talk to his fellow hunter. He figured the boy already knew that what was going on with Sam seemed a hell of a lot like what had happened to the others. And if it was they wouldn't have much time.

As he stood there waiting he noticed the ambulance entrance doors slide open. EMT's rushed in with a stretcher, "We've got another one." One of the EMT's yelled out. A couple of nurses rushed to them.

The woman on the gurney was strapped down and thrashing. "Let me go! He's after me! He's come back from the dead to kill me!" she screamed.

"She needs haloperidol," the older of the nurses stated.

"Damn it this is the seventh one... what in the hell is going on?"

* * * * * * * * * *

Inside the exam room Dean, pulled the chair over closer to his brother's bed. "Hey, I'm not sure if you can hear me. But I'm sorry" Dean began, "I'm going to fix this Sam."

He sat there and looked at his brother. As he did he noticed a small mark on his forearm. Dean leaned in closer trying to get a good look at it. He memorized what it looked like. "Just hold Sam. I'm going to fix this. I promise."

Slowly the older brother stood, the worry on his face slowly faded to determination. He wasn't going to lose his brother now. Not after everything they had been through. Not after all both of them had sacrificed. He was going to save him.

* * * * * * * * * *


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN  
Or Has It Just Begun

Lunch had ended. They had barely gotten everything under control after the disruption. Several of the patients that Sam had seen in the TV room hadn't been in the cafeteria. Sam headed down the hall following behind a few other patients. He was going through the motions. His mind clearing more and more since he had avoided the meds, thanks to Ted. His head still hurt from being struck in the chaos. He had managed to see Dean. Didn't he. Dean was there. Or was Sam there.

The line between real and fiction blurring more and more. The hospital felt so familiar. The halls. The patients. No this was a dream. It had to be. He had such clear memories of his life. Of hunting. Of Dean. Of trying to find Dad. Everything with Yellow Eyes. What happened when Dean went to hell. His time with Ruby. Dean coming back. Everything but the past few days. Those were a jumble.

Yet still this place felt real. Felt familiar. He knew his way around. Just like he knew he was on his way to group. Everyday after lunch he had group. No one had told him. No one reminded him. He just knew. He followed other members down the hall, each member entering the room and sitting down in hard plastic chairs positioned in a circle around the room. A doctor already sat in the room holding a clip board. It wasn't his doctor. It wasn't Dr. Miller. This was Dr. Fields. Why did Sam know his name? He wasn't wearing a name tag.

Sam shook off the feeling. Shook off the nagging questions. He took a seat in the circle, trying his best not to think about the questions and memories that were swirling around in his head.

Group began people each in turn discussing their lives. About the things that brought them here to the hospital. How their week had been. If they thought they were getting any better.

Sam just sat there his mind swimming with images and memories, that didn't make sense. He could hear the talking in the background but was lost in his own thoughts. He tunned out the chatter as his mind drifted.

* * * * * * * * * *

It was late at night. Sam lay asleep in bed, waking to the sound of his mother yelling. "Get out of here, you're drunk."

"I'm not leaving till you let me see my boy, you hear me." Sam could hear the sound of his father's voice bellow from downstairs. "Sam. Sam get your ass down here."

"He's asleep John. Just go."

There was a thud. "Stay out of my way Mary," there was a small pause then footsteps starting up the stairs, "Sam get out of the damn bed." John's voice barked.

"Sammy hide!" He heard his mother shout. Then more footsteps.

Sam dove under the bed. They were fighting. They always fought. But dad had been gone. The young boy huddled beneath his bed, gripped in fear.

"I told you to stay out of it." Stumbling. A series of thuds. Then the loud clomp of his father's boots. Sam could see his shadow beneath the door. He held his teddy bear as tightly as he could.

"John leave him alone." His mother pleaded coming back up the stairs. The sound of her footsteps clearly limping. "Just leave him alone." She pleaded. Sam could hear the slap this time and the sound of his mother hitting the wall in the hallway.

Then the door to his room opened. He squeezed his eyes shut. Only the sounds now. The sounds of his father's boots. His mother getting up. "Leave him alone." Then the sound of his father's large hands connecting with her. Sam wanted to keep his eyes closed but couldn't for some reason he opened his eyes and watched in horror. His mother was slapping and hitting at his father. John held her by her throat against the wall. Her feet kicking franticly. The sound of her choking. "I told you, you can't keep my boy from me, bitch."

* * * * * * * * * *

Sam sat in his chair his eyes shutting tightly as if they were trying to block out the images that were flooding in. No that couldn't be real. His father couldn't do that. No. He tried to block it out. He was dreaming. It was a nightmare. It had to be. He tried to focus on the sounds of the voices in the room. But found his mind drifting more and more.

* * * * * * * * * *

Sam was in the motel. He sat there staring at the door. His father had left again. He was hunting another demon. That's what dad told him. He was hunting evil. Just like the evil that killed his mom. That was what John told him. He would be back soon. Sam had to stay put. Stay quiet. No one could know he was there. But Sam was hungry. There wasn't any more food in the room. He was starting to wonder how much longer it was going to be.

"What should I do Dean," he asked his imaginary friend appearing before him. "I'm hungry and dad's not back."

"Don't worry. I'll take care of it. I always take care of you don't I Sammy."

"But I'm still hungry."

"There's a vending machine down the hall."

"Dad said not to leave the room."

"Dad won't know."

"What about money?"

"He always leaves change in his pants pockets."

Moments later Sam had scrapped together a few quarters and was down the hall getting a bag of chips. He rushed back to the room quickly in case his father returned. He sighed a breath of relief as he ate the chips. At least now he wasn't as hungry.

About an hour later John returned. He was covered in blood. He usually was when he came back from a hunt. He instructed Sam to help him wash the blood out of his clothes in the bathroom. As Sam leaned over the tub scrubbing blood from his father's shirt he felt a sharp blow to his back. "What in the hell is this?" his father demanded throwing the empty chip bag into the bloody water that filled the tub. Sam didn't answer he just lowered his head. "I said, What the hell is that?" he barked.

"I... I... was hungry sir..."

"I told you not to leave this room." Sam could hear the sound of his father's belt being yanked from it's loops. Then the sting as it lashed across his back.

* * * * * * * * * *

Sam flinched a bit in the chair from the memory. No... this wasn't real.

"Sam would you like to talk today?" Came the voice of Dr. Fields.

Sam just shook his head. He couldn't talk about it. He didn't want to think about it. This wasn't real. He just wanted to get back. He just wanted Dean to help him. 'Where are you Dean?' he thought to himself.

* * * * * * * * * *

"I gotta go." Sam said as he packed his duffel bag.

"Why. I don't understand." He looked up at his girlfriend her blond hair hanging down around her face.

He smiled, "It'll only be a couple of days. I told you my brother called. He needs my help with my dad."

"And why am I just now finding out you have a brother. And you never talk about your dad. You don't even have any pictures of him."

"I told you Jess I have to it's a family thing. I'll be back by Monday." He zipped the bag closed then leaned in kissed her. "It's all going to be ok. I promise."

"At least tell me where you're going." She called after him as he walked from the apartment.

* * * * * * * * * *

Sam pulled his car a '67 Impala up in front of a old farm drive way. He looked down at a small piece of paper in his hands. The address matching that on the mail box. He pulled down the drive parking in front of the farm house. Slowly he stepped from the car and approached the house. The front door open. He hesitated a bit before entering. Inside a trail of blood on the floor lead towards the stairs. It was starting again. That's what he said on the phone.

Sam swallowed hard then saw the man that had been called his father coming down the stairs. He was wiping blood from his hands with a towel. "Sam, you came." the man said almost excited. It was as if he forgot the hell he had put Sam through. The beatings. The cleaning up after John had killed someone. Sam had dealt with this in therapy. He had found out just how much of a monster his father was. All the people he had killed. They had connected him with numerous disappearances after they found Sam. Thanks to Sam being able to fill in the pieces as to where they had been. Where his father had 'hunted'. And now the monster stood before him, with open arms. As if he was welcoming Sam home.

Sam pulled away from his father's hug. "Why did you call me?" Sam tried to control the anger and hurt that built inside him. The Rage for what he had watched this man, his father do to his mother.

"I told you. The thing that killed your mom, it's back. It's not safe for you."

"Not safe for me?" Sam couldn't believe the audacity of this man, "You killed my mother. And all those other people. You."

"No. I hunt monsters."

"You are a monster."

"It's gotten to you already. I knew it. You're one of the demon spawn it's planning to use to destroy the world."

"You're insane."

"I won't let it happen. I can't, even if you are my son." John rushed at Sam.

The two struggled. Sam's rage taking over. They fought and Sam managed to gain the upper hand. John was beaten. Almost unconscious. Sam drug him across the floor by his hair. He pulled the older man into the kitchen. Sam dropped him to the floor. John falling limp having been knocked out. Sam grabbed a knife from a butcher's block. He bent down over his would be father, hatred in his eyes. Pain of so many years built to that moment, as he pulled him close and slit his throat.

He shoved the body away. Wiping the blood that covered his hands on his shirt. He stared down at the mess. At his tormentor. Stared down at his father. "What have I done..." he whispered just under his breath. Then ran from the house. Driving as fast and far as he could. "What did I do..."

* * * * * * * * * *


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT  
Whims Of Your Mind

"Sam... Sam are you with us?" Dr. Fields spoke trying to get the attention of the young man.

Sam's mind drifting back to the present. He shook himself from the memories of the past. "Yeah sorry... just thinking..." he admitted his voice low. The images and pain still fresh in his mind.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Sam shook his head, he wasn't sure he could. What if this was real. What if those memories were real. His mother. His father...

"It's ok Sam. That's what group is for. You can talk about anything here. It's safe. I promise." Dr. Fields urged the young man to speak. "Why don't you tell us what you were thinking about?"

Sam didn't feel comfortable with this, but he began to speak, "It was.... I was just remembering somethings."

Dr. Fields noticed his pause, "Go on. It's ok." The group nodded in agreement.

"About my father...." Sam looked down studying his slippers, trying to let thoughts of such a mundane item take the place of the pain.

"Come on Sam, you know you can open up in group. You've done it before. Just let go..."

Sam kept his eyes to the floor as he spoke, "I was just remembering how he used to beat me and my mom. And about the night he... he...."

"The night he killed your mom?" Concern and sympathy filled the voice and eyes of the doctor.

Sam could only nod.

"Those are painful memories aren't they Sam?" He knew that Sam often had these memories resurface. The young man would become confused by them quite often. His mind was constantly trying to struggle between suppressing them and dealing with them.

"Yes...."

"You try to block them out don't you?"

Again Sam merely nodded.

"It's ok not to think about them. You know that. But what you have to remember is that you can't replace them with false memories. It doesn't help you cope. You can't just cover them up. Why don't you tell me how it made you feel remembering what your father did."

Sam's eyes shut the pain and anger from the memories flooding back. "Angry... afraid.... sad...." he paused, "I don't want them to be real."

"But they are Sam. And you have to deal with that."

"I don't know if I can...."

"Just take your time Sam." Dr. Fields smiled trying to provide some reassurances to the young man.

"Why don't we give you a few minutes and hear from someone else in the group. We can come back if you want."

The group began talking again. Sam kept his eyes to the floor. He didn't want to deal with these memories. They weren't real. They couldn't be. He shouldn't have to deal with them.

He tried to remember how things had truly been. How that yellow eyed son-of-a-bitch had killed his mom. How he had manipulated everything in Sam's young life. And for what? Dean killed him. Some end game.

Sam's mind began to drift as he tried to force back in the 'real' memories.

* * * * * * * * * *

Sam walked into his apartment. It was so late he had been gone for days. He had been afraid to come home. He had driven for so long just hoping it would help him sort things out. He could hear the shower running. "Jess..." he whispered to himself.

He continued further into the apartment. As he entered the bedroom he heard the water shut off, Jess stepped from the bathroom, "Sam... Thank god." She ran towards him. "I was so worried."

She threw her arms around him, but Sam just stood there motionless. "Where have you been? I called your aunt and uncle. What's going on Sam. They said you never had a brother. They said your Dad killed your mom. Sam..."

He pulled her away from him, "You called..."

"I had to do something you wouldn't answer you phone. Sam talk to me. What happened." She looked down his shirt.... It was covered in blood... "God Sam what happened... Are you..."

"I told you I had to help my brother."

"Sam, what? You don't have a brother. You're aunt and uncle told me. Why won't you tell me what happened. Did you.... Did you hurt yourself... Did you hurt someone else...." Tears were beginning to stream down the young woman's face.

"I had to help find my dad."

"What? Why? Was he the one that called you?"

"He needed my help... There's things I haven't told you Jess. My dad didn't kill my mom... it was a demon. It... We hunt monsters. My family."

"Sam you're not making sense. Why are you covered in blood?"

Sam looked down at his shirt. "That's why I had to help Dean, Dad went missing on a hunt."

"Sam stop it. Listen to yourself. You need help. I'm gonna call someone." She headed for the phone.

He grabbed her arm as she lifted the receiver making her drop it. "No."

"Sam you're hurting me." His grip tightened around her arm. She tried to struggle pulling at his fingers trying to loosen the grasp to no avail.

The guilt and anger raising within him, Sam snapped. "I'm not crazy. My dad is a hero. We save people." He grabbed her other arm his grip causing her arms to turn white from the force. He began to shake her, losing control of himself.

"Sam please let go." She pleaded tears streaming down her face. She had never seen him like this. He had always been so gentle. What had happened? What had his father done to him?

He flung her onto the bed. Then climbed on top of her and began slapping and beating her. Rage taking over and lashing out blindly.

She screamed and pleaded. "NO! SAM! STOP!"

* * * * * * * * * *

Dean and Bobby hurried from the hospital headed toward the Impala. "You're right what's going on with Sam isn't just from being hit upside the head. There was another woman brought in while you were with him."

"Damn it Bobby, I thought that thing was dead." Dean felt even more guilty. They should have been more prepared before they rushed in after the damn thing last night. But Dean had insisted. He told Sam it would be a quick exorcism. They had been so sure it was a demon. Then turned out to be so wrong. And they still didn't have any idea what they were dealing with because Dean had just assumed it was dead. How could he be so stupid. Now Sam was in bad shape and who knew how many more people he had put in danger being reckless. He just wanted to finish this hunt. Wanted to rack up one more towards trying to make amends. Trying to balance the score for all he had done. And he had only made it worse.

"Well we need to find it and find out how to finish the job." Bobby just wished he had more to go on. He knew where it had been last, had some information on the girl it had put in the hospital. All that might help them find the damn thing. But what good would it do to find it if they didn't know what it was.

"Wait, I almost forgot, there was a mark on Sam's arm. I think from where the thing grabbed him in the fight."

"What'd it look like?" This could be the key. Maybe it would tell them what they were up against.

They reached the car and Dean quickly opened the door and grabbed a small pad of paper from the glove box. He sketched a small elliptical shape on the paper and gave it to Bobby. "That's sort of it."

"Ok, lets get back to the motel. I need some stuff from my car. And we need to figure out how to get ahead of this thing." He was almost sure he had the books they would need. There was something familiar about the crude drawing.

"We gotta hurry, Bobby." Dean knew whatever that son-of-a-bitch had done to Sam his brother didn't have long. The other victims only took about a day before it was all over.

Bobby looked down at his watch. A concerned tone in his voice, "I know. By my watch Sam's got maybe six hours." Soon it might be too late.

* * * * * * * * * *

Sam begins to walk back to his room after group ended. His mind still reeling. He kept trying to focus trying to remind himself this wasn't real. It couldn't be real. He still remembered Dean, Bobby, his Dad , Jess. All the training. This had to be a nightmare. It had to be. He just wished he would wake up. It had been so long since he woke up. 'Dean where are you? Help me...." he pleaded in his mind.

He entered the small room the orderly who had escorted him to the room closing the door behind him. Sam heard the click of the lock.

He had to get out of here. There had to be away. Even if it was a dream he didn't want to be in this hospital any more. And if it wasn't ... No he couldn't think that way, he reminded himself. But what if this was real? Even more if it was real he wanted out. Needed out.

He began to look around the room. Examining the window frames and the bars. Then checking the vents. All too small. The lock on the door... He was sure he could pick it if only he had something useful. He began to scourer the room.

He was checking the bathroom trying to figure a way to take apart the sink, at least that would give him a weapon; when he heard the door begin to open. Quickly he straighted up and stayed still in the bathroom. He needed to cover. He flushed the toilet then ran the water.

He could hear talking in the room over the running water.

"You got lucky this time Ted. Next disruption and you're be in the box a lot longer then a couple hours."

"Said I was sorry... I tripped."

Sam opened the door and watched the orderly shove Ted into the room. "Right... well next trip and you'll be spending the rest of the week down there." The man shook his head in disgust as he turned and left the room. The lock clicking behind him.

"Yeah well maybe I like it there." Ted called after him, "Asshole." Then he turned back to Sam, "So did it work? You didn't swallow did you?"

Sam looked at the very odd man he still wasn't sure what to make of him. "No I pocketed them."

"Good. Good..." The man began moving around the room looking around. He was tapping the walls and the floor. "Alli's going as planned." He mumbled as he finished checking for whatever he was checking for. "Good I think we can talk..."

He got very close to Sam his face only centimeters from the young hunter's face. Then he began to whisper, "We go ahead with the plan today. I overheard there's going to be a staff meeting. It's the perfect chance." His eyes darted from side to side.

Sam wanted to ask him what they were going to do but figured it would be better to just listen. There was a sense of familiarity, about everything here.

"Ok when they go to the meeting, there'll be minimal staff. Just like we hoped. Couldn't get better." He stopped. Looked around again, "Shh... You hear that?"

"Hear what?" Sam asked.

"Not so loud. Whisper. They hear everything." Ted reminded Sam. Ted's eyes again darting around the room.

"Sorry." Sam lowered his voice this time.

Ted looked around listening closely to the sounds of the air conditioning, the foot steps in the hall, and anything else he thought he was hearing.

Sam stood there just waiting, wondering what it was he was supposed to hear.

Then Ted seemed satisfied that it was safe again to talk, "Right, we go at 4:04 exactly. Got it."

Sam nodded.

"Gonna have to move quick. May have to take out a couple of guards. That's your job you have training. I'm no hunter, just the man with the plan." Ted almost chuckled. "We'll be out and you can get back to saving the world in no time."

* * * * * * * * * *


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE  
Dream Control

"Tell me you got something Bobby." Dean urged as he entered the motel room. He had just gotten back from checking out the scene where the woman had gone nuts. Whatever this thing was it changed bodies like they were going out of style. According to witnesses the last person to talk to her was a young boy, maybe 12 years old. What was worse was that Dean had already wasted almost an hour, and still didn't feel like they were any closer. The only bright side was that they had split up. With any luck Bobby had found something in the research.

Bobby looked up from the research he had spread out before him on the table, "Vetala," he stated flatly.

"Ok...." Dean stared at him not sure if he was supposed to know what that was. And not wanting to admit he had no idea. Funny thing was if Sam had been awake he would probably have been on the same page as Bobby already.

"It's a type of revenant." Bobby began to explain as he handed Dean an open book. "Pretty nasty bugger too. They ride corpses, doesn't take much for 'em to jump to the next one either."

Dean looked down at the book in his hands, there was a photo of what looked like a spirit entering a corpse, along with old half faded writing; that Dean was sure it wasn't English. "So how do we kill it?" He asked as he shut the book.

"That's the thing, it doesn't matter what we do to the body, cause it's not it's body. Kind of like a bad ass spirit that can possess someone, this thing is already dead and just passing through." Bobby continued as he took the book back from Dean, "Bad news is there is nothing in the lore for killing one..."

Dean cut the older hunter off, "What do we do then? There has to be something. We can't just let Sam go die again."

"I know that, and I got no intention of letting him either." Bobby knew this was a bad situation but there was hope, "There is good news. Silver will hurt 'em we can even use it to trap it in the current body. Then we put it to rest."

"How?"

Bobby almost smiled this was the first good break they had, "That's the best part, it's just basic funeral rites."

"That's it?" It couldn't be that simple. Could it?

"That's it," Bobby assured him. "We just need a rosary, and some Latin, once we get it pinned down." It was true getting rid of it was going to be fairly easy, "The biggest problem is gonna be finding' it. Cause they can't stay in a body long. It's gotta get a fresh one pretty often. Gonna make it hard to track."

"Unless we know where it's getting the bodies..." Dean trailed off as something important dawned on him.

"That would help, sure would make it easier to figure out who it's riding'." Bobby saw the look in Dean's eyes, "You thinking' morgue?"

"Or funeral home," Dean noticed the paper that he had given Sam that morning over on the table. He looked at the obits, "Like maybe the funeral home where our friend form yesterday had his showing." More importantly beside the man's obituary was the obit for a 12 year old boy, "and guess who's showing is there tomorrow." He flipped the paper around to show it to Bobby.

* * * * * * * * * *

Ted looked out the small sliver of window in the door. He tried to peek down both directions of the hall outside. As far as he could tell from the limited view it was clear. He could just make out the clock across the hall in the community room. "It's time." He stated then looked back at his cohort. "You ready to blow this Popsicle stand?"

Sam took a deep breath, he still wasn't sure about this plan. Hesitantly he answered, "Yeah." He couldn't believe he was going along with the plan of a crazy guy.

Ted looked excited. He clapped his hands together and made a small jump. "Damn right." He grinned his eyes beaming, "alright time to go." He ran over and slapped Sam on the shoulder quickly before running into the bathroom. He climbed up on top of the toilet and began removing the cover from the vent.

Sam watched curiously, "What are you doing?" He asked. There was no way anyone was going to fit through the vent it was only six inches wide and four inches tall.

Ted reached deep within the vent. His arm in up to his shoulder. He looked back at Sam and grinned as he felt around. A second later he pulled something small and wrapped in a napkin. He jumped down from the toilet and came over to Sam putting the napkin in the young man's hands. "There you go. Just like I promised."

Sam opened the napkin to find a nurses badge, a few paper clips and a key.

"You said you could pick the lock for the room with that. Right?" Ted asked, he had gathered up everything just like Sam had asked him to.

Sam looked up he could use this. This plan might actually work. "Yeah..." he nodded.

A huge smile spread across Ted's face, "see told you I could do it. I told you." He grinned as he cheerfully moved across the room towards the door. "Now let's get out of here, you got work to do.

* * * * * * * * * *

"Rest assured Mr. Peterson, we here at Stewart's Funeral Services, know how important one's final arrangements are. And if you choose to have us handle your services we promise to do so with the utmost care."

Bobby nodded as he and the funeral director sat down in his office. "Thank you."

"So what prompted your visit if I may ask?"

"I just figured it was time that I you know made the arrangements." He would stall as long as possible.

"Well, it's good that you did. After all this is one thing you really don't want to leave to chance. Having everything properly laid out will make things simpler for those you leave behind."

* * * * * * * * * *

The door finally opened as Sam and his partner slipped quietly into the hall. Carefully timing their exit to the movement of the cameras at either end of the hall. They had to get this right. No going back now. They moved quickly to the blind spots. Only 30 feet of hall between them and the door leading to the laundry area.

Ted lead the way the nurses badge in his hand. They had to be quiet and quick. He had planned their route, he knew the best way to avoid the staff. This was the best chance they had. There would be a guard ahead not far through the door. That would be their biggest obstacle. He just hoped Sam was up to his part. Ted knew that he didn't have a chance of getting out with out the other man. He needed Sam's special skills. Sam had managed to pick the door lock. And with any luck Sam would be able to take out the guard. At least if any of the stuff Sam had told Ted had been true.

Even if it wasn't Ted had over heard from the staff that Sam had killed his father. So he obviously could be lethal. And Ted needed out of here.

They reached the door both men pressed against the wall a camera just above their heads. They hoped that so far they had managed to stay just out of it's sights. Ted swiped the badge in the door. A green light appeared and the lock popped open. Ted smiled at his accomplice.

Sam nodded as they moved carefully through the door. There were no cameras in the next hall so at least that would make things easier. This area was normally only accessible by hospital staff. Ted motioned with hand gestures as to the direction they had to go to reach the laundry room. From there they could reach a docking exit to the building.

Sam nodded as they started down the hall. Ted stopped Sam as they approached the corner. "Wait," he whispered, his voice so soft that Sam could barely hear the other man. "There's an office around the corner, there'll be someone you'll have to handle. You ready?"

Sam wasn't sure about this. He didn't want to hurt anyone but at the same time he had to get out of here; especially if this wasn't a dream. He took a deep breath, he could just knock whoever it was out. No big deal. He had to get out of here.

They moved forward. Sam pressed himself against the wall as they prepared to round the corner. This time Sam was in the lead. He peeked around the corner. There was a doctor sitting at a desk in an office. There was no way past him either. Sam took a deep breath and moved quick while the doctor had his head turned. He moved against the other wall poised beside the door to the man's office. Another breath then he turned into the door and rushed the doctor. The man was surprised, as Sam leaped through the air and tackled the man. A series of punches followed, as Ted entered the office.

The on looking man picked up the computer monitor from the desk then raised it above his head. The doctor fell limp from the volley of blows issued by Sam. Then as Sam stood Ted brought the monitor down. It fell through the air, crashing down on the head of the unconscious man. Blood pooled on the floor quickly.

* * * * * * * * * *

Dean opened the locked window using his pocket knife. He carefully opened it, Bobby may have had the funeral director distracted but Dean would still have to be quiet and quick. He slid through the window landing on the floor on the other side.

He began searching the cooler area. He opened door after door. Each had it's occupants present. One even had the young boy from the paper. He wondered if he had been right if the boy was still here maybe he had been wrong. Sure the boy matched the description from the witnesses but then so could a great deal of kids.

He shook his head and was about to give up. He still had two more coolers to check. He opened one of the doors and pulled out the slab. Empty.... He shut it again according to the label on the door it was supposed to be occupied by one Frank Yates. "Looks like we have a winner."

* * * * * * * * * *

"What did you do?" Sam's voice became frantic. He quickly leaned back down and pushed the monitor off to the side. He felt for a pulse. Nothing. "Oh god... you..." He had been an innocent man. Just a doctor. He didn't deserve this. "He's dead."

"We gotta go." Ted insisted. He pulled at his fellow patient. "Now Sam."

Sam shoved off the grasp as he stood. "No. You killed him. Why in the hell did you kill him?" He pushed Ted away from him.

"Look if he came to then we'd be caught. You said you wanted out of here. You want to find Dean and save the world. Well guess what you can't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs." Ted grabbed the man's arm again. "Now suck it up. You've told me all about the people you've killed who were possessed by demons. What's one more guy?"

"You can't be serious?"

"Look we both want out of here and we're running out of time. So can we continue this after we're out?"

* * * * * * * * * *


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN  
In Another World

"Get out of the way Sam." Ted glared at the man that now stood between him and the door. They were running out of time. What the hell was wrong with Sam, "We don't have time for this."

Ted moved forward and tried to push past Sam, "I'm not moving, you killed him for no reason." Sam push Ted back and away from the door.

"I told you I'm not staying here any more. Now either get on board or I'll go through you." Ted glared as Sam took a stronger stand to block the door. "Fine have it your way." Ted looked down at the desk and saw a pair of scissors, he quickly grasped them in his hand and charged at Sam.

* * * * * * * * * *

"I got a name and a face," Dean stated as he and Bobby met up at the impala. He pulled a folded photo he had stolen, from within the funeral home, from his pocket.

Bobby looked down at the photo as Dean handed it to him. "Now we just need to find him again."

"Well last time he headed for the farm house after an attack," Dean stated as he leaned through the window and grabbed a map from the glove box. "But I think we need to find him before he strikes again. He must have just switched bodies too cause the kid was in there." Dean walked around to the back of the car and spread the map out on the trunk. It had various locations all circled in red, from the investigation they had already done.

"We better get a move on too." Bobby added.

They both looked at the map, a pattern starting to emerge. Dean pointed down at the map, "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

Bobby nodded, "I think we got 'em."

The two hunters quickly piled into the impala and it raced off. Both eager to end this and worried that they might be too late.

* * * * * * * * * *

Several orderly came running down the hall. Ahead they could see Ted come flying from the door, the patient slamming into the wall of the hallway. He quickly picked himself up as Sam came from the office. Sam cause sight of the orderly's from the corner of his eye, at least their commotion had drawn the attention of the staff.

Ted gripped the scissors tightly in his fist and pushed himself up. "Damn Winchester," he snarled as he rushed at Sam once more. Sam grabbed his opponent's hands struggling to keep the scissors from impaling him. The two moved around each other both trying to push the scissors. Ted trying to shove them into Sam and Sam trying his best to push them away. This was getting him no where. He had to do something. He raised one hand balling it into a fist and connecting with Ted's jaw. The man's head spun a bit from the blow, and he nearly lost his footing. However, Ted quickly recovered. He was pissed, Sam had completely blown his escape attempt. And now Ted was out for blood and revenge. He pushed forward with more force just as he felt the grasp of orderly's on his shoulders.

However, their arrival was not as fortuitous as Sam had hoped. They had been running down the hall so quickly that stopping completely was a bit of a problem. The inertia they had built up helped to push Ted forward just enough for Sam to feel the blades of the scissors penetrate his abdomen. The orderly's corrected quickly, unaware of Sam's injury, and pulled Ted away. They grabbed him and wrestled him to the ground. Sam looked down at his side seeing the blood seep through his clothes. One of the other orderly's noticed the wound. "Oh god... we need a nurse stat." He yelled as he ran to catch the injured man.

Sam stumbled back into the wall. He was about to pull the blades from his side when the orderly stopped him, "no Sam, you can't." He stated pulling the young man's hands away. Luckily the orderly knew enough about first aid, "it will only make it worse. We'll get you help. Stay clam." The orderly quickly began stuffing fabric around the scissors and the wound trying his best to apply pressure without making the injury any worse or pulling the scissors out. He couldn't risk Sam bleeding any worse.

* * * * * * * * * *

Dean and Bobby sat in the impala, watching the dark city streets. It was just after nine and they were hoping like hell their hunch was right. So far all the attacks had been relatively close to one another. They hoped that they would spot the vetala on the street.

They sat there watching the comings and goings. It was a fairly busy Saturday night. Many people were out driving and walking in the area. Some were headed to the small theater and others to one of the near by bars.

The number of people were going to make it harder to spot their freak of the week, but at the same time it might just draw it out. The damn thing seemed to enjoy striking in public.

* * * * * * * * * *

"You son-of-a-bitch Winchester!" Ted called out as the orderly pulled him down the hall. He fought and kicked as they tried to get him away from the scene. "I hope you die! You ruined everything you self-righteous prick!"

Sam tried to focus on anything other then the pain and Ted. Why in the hell did this hurt so much? He felt so weak and dizzy. "Doctor Roberts.... he's...." he trailed off thinking of the other man. "Ted... he... the monitor..."

"Oh my god!" another orderly called out as he looked into the office. Dr. Roberts lay in a pool of his own blood on the floor. "What in the hell happened."

"Ted...." Sam's voice trailing off.

Ted yelled as he was dragged down the hall, "He's fucking dead. And I swear if you survive I'll kill you too Winchester. You hear me? You better die or you'll regret it!" His voice finally becoming hard to hear as the staff pulled him into one of the rooms.

* * * * * * * * * *

"There," Bobby stated, pointing across the street. It was their target. He was walking behind a young couple, no doubt planing on putting the whammy on one of them.

The two hunters got out of the car, carefully hiding their weapons beneath their jackets. They would have to be careful with so many civilians in the area. They needed to get this thing off the streets and preferably before it drove anyone else crazy.

* * * * * * * * * *

"Quick, we need to stop the bleeding," the nurse stated as she began to take over the scene. "Sam you need to lay still for me ok?" She tried to look at him as reassuringly as possible. "I'm going to pull the scissors out. When I do we need to stop the bleeding as quickly as possible."

"EMT's are on the way," an orderly said as he ran down the hall.

"Good." The nurse took a deep breath. This was why she got out of the emergency room and went got the job here in the first place. She hated treating wounds. At least her training was going to come in handy. "Ok Sam are you ready?"

Sam took a deep breath and leaned his head back on the floor, the pain from the scissors was intense. He tried to remind himself he had been shot, stabbed and flung around more times than he could count, but for some reason his memories of being stabbed were nothing like this. It seemed like it hurt more then he remembered it ever hurting before. He took a deep breath and readied himself. "Yeah, I'm ready." The pain was starting to make him very light headed. He almost hoped that he would fall unconscious, maybe then he would wake up in the real world.

The nurses hand shook a little as she pulled the blades from his side. Quickly stuffing a towel against the wound. She pressed as hard as possible in order to help slow the bleeding. The floor around Sam was bloody, she estimated he had lost a couple of pints already. She worried he would lose consciousness.

A mixture of both pain and relief filled Sam as the blades slid from his side. He let out a guttural scream.

* * * * * * * * * *

Dean and Bobby crossed the street weapons at the ready just under their jackets. They had to wait for an opening. They need this thing to spot them and get spooked. They needed it to run to get away from the people on the streets.

Dean called out, "Hey Frank!" The corpse that had been Frank Yates turned and recognized the man who had impaled on it's last bodies. He glared at the hunter, before taking off running.

Dean and Bobby quickly followed suit. At least it had worked now they just needed to catch the son-of-a-bitch. The two hunters ran after the vetala as it turned a corner heading down a less populated street.

* * * * * * * * * *

Sam was starting to feel a little cold, the blood loss taking it's toll on him. "Sam come on now," the nurse urged him. "Hold in there, ok? The EMT's are almost here."

Sam couldn't see the other nurse who had been trying to help the doctor. His pulse was weak but still faint, Sam had been mistaken when he felt for it before. But the others in the office were worried the doctor wouldn't make it. Just as worried were the nurse and orderly caring for Sam.

Sam tried to fight the dizziness. He wasn't sure any more what was real. But if this was a dream this could be just as dangerous as if it were actually happening. He had read enough lore about people who die in their dreams only to actually die. Hell they had even faced someone using dreams to kill people. He had to get control of this. Had to keep himself focused. If this was just a dream why couldn't he control it? Why couldn't he affect it?

The blood loss was too much. Everything was getting blurry. "Dean..." he whispered under his breath as he felt the world around him go dark.

* * * * * * * * * *

Dean and Bobby continued to give chase. The man ahead of them quickly darting down an alleyway. As Dean and Bobby turned the corner to follow they pulled their weapons. Dean pulling his pearl handled .45 and Bobby pulling a silver dagger. The older hunter wished the younger had chosen a weapon less likely to draw attention. They would have to be quick, especially if Dean had to fire off any rounds. Though even Bobby knew the gun could be useful especially with this thing on the run.

The hunters paused at the entrance of the alley, their quarry was no where in sight. "He must be hiding'" Bobby declared as they both began scanning the surroundings. The vetala couldn't have gotten far, they had only been a few seconds at most behind him.

"Marco..." Dean called out in the most smart ass tone he could manage as he and Bobby continued further into the alley.

* * * * * * * * * *

"Ok let's move him," an EMT stated as they raised the gurney with Sam on it. In the office a similar scene was unfolding with Dr. Roberts as EMT's attempted to stabilize the man before moving him.

In the hall the EMT's with Sam moved swiftly down the hall and outside. They needed to get him to the emergency room. The mental hospital was ill equipped for such things.

One of the EMT's spoke into his radio as they went, "Trauma patient coming in will need another 2 units of O negative upon arrival. We've managed to stabilize enough for transportation but he's still unconscious." He paused then continued, "The second victim is about to be moved. More information will follow from the other team. Have the emergency staff ready for our arrivals."

* * * * * * * * * *


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN  
Round Trip Journey In Your Head

Sam slowly began to come around. His eyes fluttering a bit as he became aware of his surroundings. He was lying in a hospital bed; an IV in his arm, and monitors attached to him keeping track of his vital stats. He felt somewhat groggy. The pain was less now though. He guessed on of the bags hanging from the IV stand must be morphine. He tried to piece things together. Was he here because he was stabbed or... his head.... Dean... he had passed out again. Maybe he was back... What was real? He couldn't tell any more. He tried to sit up. "Ugh..." he muttered in response to the sharp pain in his side. He laid back in the bed again. He could tell from trying to sit up there were many stitches holding him together.

Then he wondered how long had he been out? Why hadn't he gone back to the real world why he was out? He couldn't even remember his dreams. Just bits and pieces of fractured memories. Lights... Doctors... Everyone rushing... Being moved... coming to for a moment and being told to count backwards... Darkness... Sounds that he couldn't quite make out....

He looked around the room. He was in a recovery room. How long had he been unconscious?

The hospital room door began to open, a nurse stepped into the room. "You're awake..." she was surprised a bit, but it was also a very good thing that the young man had woken up. "There's a few people who have been worried about you. You're doctor from the institution has been here pretty much ever since you went into surgery."

"How long was I out?"

"Over a day. They had to rush you into surgery after they brought you in," she began to explain. She looked down at his chart again, "you had a good deal of internal bleeding. It was pretty touch and go there at first. It's good to see you awake."

Sam tried to sit up.

"Now none of that. You can't be moving around." She came over and gently pushed him back down in the bed, "You have too many stitches and you don't want to cause any more damage. So stay still. You got that?" Her voice was stern but caring.

Sam nodded. "Alright." To be honest he didn't feel much like moving any way.

"Listen I'm gonna go let the doctor know you're awake. See if it's ok for you to eat anything yet and find out if it's ok if you have visitors since there are a couple people waiting to see you. How's that sound?"

"Ok."

"But you gotta promise to stay put. If you need anything just use the buzzer here," she pointed to the small built in remote device on the bed. "And if the pain gets any worse you can use this. Don't worry it won't give you more then your allowed but it can give you a small amount more if you need it," she handed him a small remote which was attached to the IV.

Sam hesitated to ask many questions. He only nodded as she turned and slowly left the room. He was still trying to get everything straight in his head. Maybe this was real. It sure as hell felt real. And painful. He hadn't woken up in the other hospital. Hadn't even been to that reality in so long. Why hadn't he gone back? Maybe this was real. Maybe the doctors here were right... Maybe this was what he needed to come to terms with it. But Dean... But that would was so crazy. Even Dean had said it...

* * * * * * * * * *

"We're hunting a ghost."

"A ghost exactly. Who does that?"

"Us..."

"Us. Right. And that Sam is exactly why our lives suck. I mean come on we hunt monsters. What the hell! I mean normal people they see a monster and they run, but not us. No no no, we search out things that want to kill us, or eat us. You know who does that? Crazy People. We are insane!"

* * * * * * * * * *

Maybe Dean had been right. It was crazy. A world where monsters were real. And the memories he had of both. Of the things his father did both here and in that world. 'What was more likely?' He began to ask himself.

Neither world was that great. In one he was doing horrible things and for what to save the world from a demon. Meanwhile, he was sleeping with one. And the things he had to do.... He didn't even want to think about it. How had things gone so wrong? Was it when Dean died? Or was it before then... It all started that night with Jess. That was when his two worlds collided. He had finally had a normal life. In both of this memories. Finally he was happy. Then in both his family ruined it. His father ruined it. And in both he was responsible for what happened to Jess.

"God Jess..." he whispered. It had been so long since he had even said her name out loud. "It was my fault." he murmured. That was when it all began to unravel for him. That was what lead him down the path he was on in both worlds. But which was real? He couldn't tell any more. He wasn't sure he wanted either of them to be real.

At least here the world wasn't about to end. At least here he had only killed two people instead of all the ones there. Madison and Meg not to mention the people he had killed who had been possessed by demons like Meg was. Then there were people like Hendricksen and Ronald who had died because of him. But if that wasn't real... What if none of that was real. No Dean. No Ruby. No Bobby. No Lilith. No end of the world.

Still he couldn't be happy here either. Not knowing what he did to his dad ... even if he had been an abusive bastard. And especially not after what happened to Jess...

* * * * * * * * * *

Dean and Bobby cautiously headed down the alley. Both scanning the area preparing for a possible ambush, and trying to find their prey. This damn thing was quick. They were running out of time, and Dean was getting more and more agitated. "Come out you son-of-a-bitch!" He called out. He wished the damn thing would just show itself. He wanted no more then to unload every single silver round in his clip in the damn thing.

Bobby spotted movement ahead and motioned to Dean.

* * * * * * * * * *

Sam had been laying there staring at the ceiling for some time when the door finally opened. It was his nurse. "Well got some good news. You get to eat when the lunch cart comes around. Mostly liquids and jell-o though for now. Sorry." She looked sympathetic, "But you also have a visitor..."

As she spoke Dr. Miller came through the door slowly. "How are you Sam?" She asked. She had clearly been worried about the young man.

"I'll live."

"They took Ted into custody. He told us what he did. You tried to stop him from what I hear."

Sam looked away. "How is Dr. Roberts?" He asked trying not to look up at the woman. He still felt guilty for aiding Ted in his escape attempt and for knocking the man out.

"He's in critical care. They don't know yet if he'll wake up...." she trailed off. "Right now, though I wanted to check on you." She paused looking back at the door as the nurse left the room. She tried to think of how to say what was to come next, "I want to know how you'd feel about a visitor. They were supposed to visit you at the hospital... well back at the other hospital yesterday. It was going to be after the meeting. But well..." She trailed off again, she wasn't sure this was a good idea. Sam had tried to escape. Another doctor had nearly been killed and may still die. But Sam hadn't been responsible, at least not entirely for that. He had even managed to stop Ted from escaping. But could he handle this. She wasn't sure. But she also knew the woman waiting outside was anxious and worried. She had been there ever since she had gotten the news. In fact, that had been the reason Dr. Miller had stayed all this time as well. She had been there to help the other woman cope as they waited for news of Sam's condition. How had everything gone so wrong all at once? Could her timing for Jess's visit and the attempted escape have been any worse?

She took a deep breath, "I need to know if you're up to seeing someone from your past today Sam."

The young man looked confused. There was no one left... except his aunt and uncle. He hadn't seen them in a few months either. The memories from this place were becoming more vivid and real to him as time past. "I suppose so."

Dr. Miller smiled faintly. She thought about telling him it was Jess. Should she? Would he believe her? No. He had to be confronted by this. And Jess wanted to see him. To be honest Dr. Miller doubted that even security could keep that young woman at bay if she chose to rush in here. At the same time she didn't want him to be too surprised it could worsen his condition. She had discussed it in the hall with his other doctor. He had seemed to think Sam would be ok. But Dr. Miller still had reservations, she had requested that they be ready with a sedative and restraints just in case. "Alright then," she spoke softly, "I'll be right back."

* * * * * * * * * *

The two hunters approached the door that Bobby thought he had seen shut a moment before. It was weather beaten and old. Tonight was probably the first time in months if not longer that it had been opened. Dean noted the pad lock that barely hung on to the door frame. It had been broken off, in fact, it had been slightly twisted in the process. He took a deep breath, and gently opened the door trying to be as quiet as possible.

They stepped into what once must have been the back room of a shop. Now it was abandoned and discussed. Several of the store fronts in fact, had been empty from the street. And this thing had at least chosen one of the empty ones to hide in. At least that might make this easier.

The room around them was dark and still. Only bits of light shown from the door leading to the front of the store. There were service stairs to the second floor and of course, the door to the front.

Dean motioned to Bobby to check the front, and signaled he would go up.

Bobby nodded. He knew they needed to cover more ground. And down stairs wouldn't take long. He could quickly catch up with Dean.

* * * * * * * * * *

The hospital room began to open again. Only a few inches then it paused. Outside Jess took a deep breath. It had been so long since she had seen Sam. She wasn't sure she could do this. But she knew deep down it was something she had to do.

It was now or never. She slowly inched the door open, unable to stop herself from being hesitant.

As the door opened Sam tried to lean forward to see who was coming in but the pain in his side kept him from getting a good angle. 'Why are they taking so long to come in?' He thought.

Then the young blond haired woman stepped into sight. Her long hair hanging down around her face. She was more beautiful than she had ever been... "Jess..." Sam's eyes had to be playing tricks on him. This had to be a dream. This couldn't possibly be real. In either world. He could barely catch his breath as she took several steps closer. Then her hand reached out and gently touched his. He felt his heart sink in his chest. It was a touch he never thought he would feel again. How was this happening?

* * * * * * * * * *


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE  
This Magic New Dimension

He felt her warm hand touching his. "How..." he whispered, his voice trembling. His mind was a wash with endless questions. How could she be here? Was his mind playing more tricks on him? Was this truly a dream? Why was she here? How did she survive? He had seen her.... the fire... oh god what he had done to her.... Was this hell? Was this his punishment for killing the love of his life? Her touch was so soft though. So warm. A single tear slid down his cheek. All his questions swirling in his mind and yet he could not voice them. The words would not form. He felt almost breathless just seeing her.

"Hey Sam," her voice was soft and sweet. She looked down at him lying there in bed. She could tell her presence was a shock. She was also worried about his injuries. She didn't realize just how much she was worried until she saw him lying there. She could see a small amount of blood which has seeped from his bandages through his gown. The doctor had told her in the hall that would be normal. Still seeing him like this brought so many feelings to the surface.

Both stayed there in silence for a few moments. Neither one quiet sure where to start. Both lost in their own thoughts and feelings. Neither noticed Dr. Miller had entered the room and was observing from the door. She didn't want to intrude. However, she was concerned and wanted to be sure nothing went wrong. If it did she had to be ready to sedate Sam. Just seeing the two of them there was almost overwhelming.

* * * * * * * * * *

Bobby moved slowly through the door into the front section of the building. Old crates, broken shelfs, and tables littered the area. He moved carefully looking around the debris. His knife at the ready as he moved. He flipped over various boxes and over turned tables. He needed to be sure their little friends wasn't hiding in here. If he was and he went to join Dean In the search upstairs it would give it the perfect opportunity to escape.

* * * * * * * * * *

"Jess..." Sam's voice finally returning to him. The young man stared into the beautiful blue eyes of his companion. "Is this a dream...."

"No Sam. I'm really here," she smiled faintly as she spoke.

"How, the fire.... and I... God Jess I'm so sorry..."

"Shh.... It's ok. I know."

"But how did you...."

"They got me out I was in pretty bad shape." She tried hard not to relive the memories in her mind. It had taken her years to come to terms with them, and to be able to stand here now. She took a deep breath and continued, "They had to rush me to the hospital. It was months before I was able to go home. She left go of Sam's hand a moment and reached down rolling up her sleeve. Burn scars covered her arm. I got lucky most of the burns were to my lower body. And they've managed to do a lot of re-constructive surgery." She trembled as she spoke. This was harder then she thought it would be.

Sam felt his heart sink further into his chest. He reached up and hesitated to touch her. The scars... "Jess..." How could he have done this to her. "I so sorry... I never meant to... Oh god what I did to you..." his mind filled with images from that night. He had beaten her so badly. Then the fire. Why had he set fire to the apartment? God it was like what his father had done to his mother. He looked away shame filled his face.

He felt her touch on his shoulder. Guilt washed over him. "How can you even stand to look at me?" He asked not looking back. He couldn't bring himself to look at the women he had hurt. The women he still loved.

"It took me a long time to come here."

"I thought I killed you...."

"I know. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry that you thought that." She came around to the other side of the bed. "I need you to understand something. I know what your father did to you. All those years. And how he killed your mother..." she trailed off a moment looking down at the floor. This was so hard. "When I finally got out of the hospital and found out what happened to you. How they had locked you away and your aunt said you had a psychotic break. That you were living in a fantasy world. And you thought I was dead....." She took a deep breath, "At first I was afraid to see you. I didn't want to make it any worse. And I wasn't sure if I could. So I stayed away."

* * * * * * * * * *

Dean moved slowly up the stairs. The wood creaking with each step. The building was dark bits of light streaming from old half boarded up windows here and there. The light casting an eerie gloom to the area. He could see how the top of the stairs turned as they connected with the hallway to the floor above. He pressed himself to the wall as he got closer. His gun held at the ready and he prepared to turn the corner.

As he turned the corner he was face to face with his foe. The man in front of him grabbing Dean's arm and hand and pushing is gun into the air. A round fired off in the process. A small amount of dust from the ceiling drifting through the air as the two men wrestled for control of the gun. Both tittering at the top of the stairs as they moved around one another.

Bobby raced to the sound of the gun firing. Seeing Dean at the top of the stairs locked in combat with the vetala. His first instinct to throw his knife, but he was unable to get a good bead on the critter. It would be too easy to miss and hit Dean. A split second later and he was rushing up the stairs to aid his fellow hunter.

* * * * * * * * * *

"I understand... what I did was unforgivable." Sam tried not to look at her face. The guilt was all consuming.

"Sam, you don't understand. I'm sorry."

"Why? You should hate me."

"I let you believe all those years that killed me...." She touched his face gently, and lifted his chin so he would look at her, "I know what that did now. I have been talking to your family the last few months. How you blamed yourself. Tortured yourself and created a whole world to torture yourself for what happened. And I know that wasn't just because of your father. A big part of that was me wasn't it?"

He pulled away tears streaming down his face. She was right. It was the guilt. His father had been a bastard. He had done such horrible things, but Jess.... He had loved Jess. She had been innocent and he had hurt her so badly.

"Sam please look at me...." she pleaded.

"How can I after what I did? I almost killed you. You should hate me. I deserve it. I deserve to be miserable and in hell."

"No you don't. You were lost Sam. I know that now. It was because of your father. And he's gone now. He's gone. And he deserved to die for what he did. All the people he killed. But you didn't deserve to be the one who had to do it. He put you in that position. He took you away from me that night." She touched his face gently tears filled her eyes. She didn't expect to feel this way. She had thought she would be strong enough. But all the feelings were rushing into her. She still loved him. She still cared.

* * * * * * * * * *

The three men were now at the top of the stairs. Bobby managed to shove the blade of his knife into the side of the opponent. The vetala hissed as the silver dagger pierced the skin of the corpse it inhabited. Despite the pain it managed to knock the gun from Dean's hand, sending the pistol tumbling down the stairs. Then Dean's fist connected with it's face. The force knocked the revenant back a bit, giving the two hunters a chance to push it forward down the hall and away from the potential fall down the stairs.

"Pin him down." Bobby instructed, as they fought to get the vetala to the ground. They had to hold it still if this was going to work. Bobby stabbed the dagger into the critter's side again. It shoved him away in response. Bobby was sent threw the air landing precariously on top of the stairs. Barely managing to balance himself before he tumbled to the ground below.

Dean was still fighting with the vetala. He managed to get a hold of the knife, stabbing it repeatedly into the body, "No new corpse around here for you to jump into you bastard." He felt a powerful fist connect with his jaw. His head spun from the blow. But Dean was not detoured. He was focused. This damn thing was going to die.

* * * * * * * * * *

Sam shut his eyes. The feeling of her hand on his face. She felt so warm. He loved her so much. "I love you..." he whispered, part of him wishing he hadn't .

"Sam..." her voice soft as her heart welled up. She leaned in close to him and gently kissed his lips. She loved him too, despite everything she loved him.

He felt her warm lips on his. His heart breaking and racing all at the same time. He reached his hand up and touched her face softly, then ran his hand gently through her hair. The guilt and pain mixed with happiness and joy. So many emotions overflowed within him. The woman had loved was here. The woman he had thought had died. In both worlds he had felt responsible. And now he realized why. He realized why he hunted. It was because of her. And now he knew he didn't have to any more. More then anything he wanted to be healthy. He wanted to be with her.

Slowly she pulled away from his kiss. "I love you too..." she whispered.

Her words were what he hoped to hear. But how could he ask her to ever forgive him? More then anything he wanted to be with her again. "I...." he paused not sure where to begin.

"Sam I know." She smiled. "Listen I don't want to loose you. And we have a lot to work through but... I want to. I miss you."

"Jess... I want to... I want to fix things. I want to get better." He thought about the other world, all the pain, the terror, the blood, and fighting. He thought about Dean, Bobby and Ruby. He thought about Lilith and the seals. He didn't want to return. "I want to stay here.... I... I don't want to be sick any more. I want to be whole again."

Dr. Miller sighed in relief from the door trying not to let her presence be noticed. It had worked. She smiled and slowly inched from the room to give them their privacy.

"Sam..." Jess smiled and leaned in and kissed him once more.

* * * * * * * * * *

Dean had managed to pin the vetala to the wall. Dean arm pressed across the man's neck. Dean shoved the dagger deeper into the walking corpse, turning it slightly as he did. The man writhed in pain and frustration. He tired to shove the hunter from him but the silver was weakening him too much.

Bobby scrambled to his feet pulling a rosary from his pocket. He rushed to the two men. "Requiem aeternam dona ei domine et lux perpetua luceat ei requiescat in pace" Bobby began reciting the Latin funeral rites, as he held the rosary in front of the revenant's face, "anima ejus et animae omnium fidelium defunctorum per misericordiam dei requiescant in pace," as he completed the rites the pinned man slammed it's head back against the wall and let out a horrible howl.

Within a few seconds the corpse fell limp in Dean's grasp. And the younger hunter pulled the dagger from it's side and let the body fall to the floor.

* * * * * * * * * *


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN  
Your Dream's Alive

Sam opened his eyes suddenly sitting up in bed. He gasped. His heart racing. His mind a wash with memories and images. "Jess...." He called out. She was gone. He was in the emergency room. His breaths came quickly. His heart pounding. He was back... He was... "Jess..." Was this real? Where was she? "No..." He fell back in the bed defeat and anguish on his face. He didn't understand.

"No... No... Jess..." he muttered to himself. This couldn't be happening. He raised his hands to his face gripping his head tightly. He felt the pain from the scars. He felt the tug of the IV cord. "No...." He was... He was going to get better. He would wake up. He would...

* * * * * * * * * *

Dean stood over the lifeless corpse. His first thoughts racing to Sam... Was he ok? "Go." Bobby told him. "I'll take care of this. You go check on Sam."

Dean nodded, "Thanks Bobby." Dean's mind filled with hope and fear. What if this had no effect on Sam? What if.... No he had to keep his head straight. Bobby had done the research. It should have worked. Sam should be ok. It would only be a few minutes before Dean could see for himself. The hospital was only 10 minutes from here.

"Just don't you forget to call me as soon as you git there." Bobby reminded him. The old hunter was just as worried about Sam. But someone had to clean up this mess. Last thing they needed was any more attention.

"I will," Dean replied before heading down the stairs and out the door.

As he headed out onto the street, moving quickly toward the impala, he pulled out his cell and quickly dialed the hospital to see if there was any news. His impatiences overwhelming He had to know as soon as possible if Sam was ok.

* * * * * * * * * *

Dean rushed into the hospital room, his brother sitting there on his bed. A nurse was just finishing taking a blood sample. She smiled, "all done."

"Sam..." Dean's voice filled with relief.

The young nurse smiled, "he still needs to rest. But it looks like he's going to be ok." She walked past Dean carrying the small basket of blood samples and equipment.

Dean stepped forward towards his little brother. "Are you..." his voice trailed off, he took a deep breath. "We were worried about you man."

Sam sat on the bed still lost in his own thoughts a bit. He wasn't sure what to say. He wasn't sure even if this was real yet. "I'm.... fine. I guess." He paused and looked at his brother, "What happened?"

"It was a vetala, some kind of revenant. Bobby and I took care of it..." He stepped closer now at his brother's side. "It's so good to see you awake...."

Sam looked away. He wasn't sure he was awake. And part of him wanted this now to be just a dream. He wanted to wake up. He felt confused and lost in all the thoughts racing in his mind. His face was serious and reserved.

"What was it..." Dean trailed off not sure if Sam wanted to discuss it yet.

* * * * * * * * * *

"Sam...." the young woman's voice called out. The monitors flashing alarms going off. "Sam!" She yelled out. Medical staff rushing into the room.

Her heart raced as she was pushed back from the bed. She looked at his heart monitor it's line flat. The loud beeping from it's alarm filling the room. "We need a crash cart." She heard someone call out. She was pressed in the corner, mortified. She could barely make out Sam through the crowd of medical coats. "Clear" she heard one yell. Then watched as Sam's body rose violently in bed.

She could see he was bleeding more. The red liquid seeping through his gown. "He's bleeding out. We need to get him stable and into surgery." The voices around her all talking over one another.

"Sam...." she whispered, her arms wrapped around herself. All she could do was stand there watching them the tears streaming down her face.

* * * * * * * * * *

It had been almost two days. The hospital finally released Sam. They had insisted on keeping him and the other victim for observation. Between the apparent outburst and the head injury it had been an interesting past few days. There had been endless questions. Sam had to answer and be careful what he said. They wanted to make sure he wasn't crazy... something that Sam wasn't even sure of any more. He had to admit his head still hurt a bit too. Though the swelling was gone of the most part now, he still had a scar and large bruise.

Two days and Sam hadn't gone back. Two days and everything seemed to be back to normal. Whatever that was. He was finally getting to leave the hospital. He stood in the room looking around. His mind still flashing memories of his other life. He shut his eyes a moment. He took a deep breath. Then continued to get dressed. There was a knock at the door as he finished buttoning up his shirt. "Come in..." he called out as he turned.

"You ready boy?" Bobby asked as he and Dean entered the room.

Sam half smiled trying to fake it, as he bent over and grabbed his jacket from the bed. "Yeah..."

* * * * * * * * * *

"Later Bobby." Dean waved as the older hunter pulled away from the motel. It had been a hell of a week. One which Dean was glad to have behind them. He turned and headed back into the motel, where Sam was gathering up the last of their things. "So, I was thinking we take a week off, let you finish healing' up maybe have some fun."

"I'm not in the mood," Sam stated flatly. Right now he didn't know what he wanted any more. But he knew he didn't want to just waste time. He didn't want to forget. Didn't want to... to be honest he didn't want to deal.

"You just got out of the hospital. We should take some time do something fun for a change." Dean tried to urge his brother to cheer up. He had been in such a mood the past few days. Even more so then usual. Dean knew there was something he wasn't ready to discuss. But that wasn't exactly a new phenomenon lately. Sam didn't talk about anything. Well except for trying to make Dean tell him about hell. And maybe that's what he was trying to do. He was trying to make Sam deal with it. It dawned on the older man how freaking annoying he must be to his brother right now. He raised his eyebrows with the thought. He was being a bit of a hypocrite wasn't he.

"You forget about the end of the world?" Sam snapped back. As soon as he said it he regretted it. But it was true. Here the world was ending. He looked down at his cell, Ruby had been calling. Great that would be an interesting conversation. He shook his head.

"Ok, sorry. But it's not like we have some crystal ball telling us where Lilith is going to be."

"Let's just go." Sam said turning as he picked up his duffel bag.

"You know you never said what happened with you. I mean Bobby and I talked to that girl and she was having all sorts of hallucinations..."

"I was unconscious Dean," Sam said sharply. He didn't want to do this. He wasn't even sure yet how to speak to Dean about what happened.

"Fine." Dean said, he gave up. Sam would talk when he was ready, "Not in a caring and sharing mood any way, so let's go." He grabbed his things and prepared to leave.

"Dean...." Sam started, he took a deep breath. He knew Dean meant well. And it was the same thing Sam had been doing ever since Dean had gotten back from hell. He sat his bag back on the bed. "I remember... all of it..."

Dean stopped and stood there listening to his brother's words. He watched as Sam sat down on the bed and Dean followed suit and sat on the other bed across from his brother.

"It was.... I was in a mental hospital." Sam began. He wasn't sure how to make his older brother understand what he went through.

"What?"

Sam took a deep breath then spoke his voice somewhat low, "I remember my whole life in two different ways Dean. I remember everything here..." he paused and looked down at the floor, "and everything there."

Dean looked at his brother with concern. He wasn't sure what to make of this. "You were a mental patient?"

"Yeah..."

"what about me?" He wondered where he had been in this dream world.

"You... you weren't real. You were a figment of my imagination. Part of a delusional world I created according to the doctors." Sam looked up at his brother's face.

"I wasn't real?"

Sam shut his eyes as he spoke. "That world was so different Dean. And I was alone. The things I went through..."

"Well it's over." Dean tried to assure his little brother.

"No, you don't get it. It felt real. It felt so real Dean..."

"Yeah I get it. Remember Jinn." The older man thought back to what he had gone through. He knew how real a mental mind trip could feel.

"This wasn't a wish Dean." Sam snapped back defensively, "This wasn't some happy idea life where everything was ok. This was... It was a nightmare." He shook his head and looked away again, "I watched..." Sam took a deep breath, running his hand through his hair. "I watched Dad beat mom to death. I watched her... He burn her afterward."

"What..."

"He killed her there in front of me. I was just a kid. Then he kidnapped me.... For years Dean." Sam stood and walked across the room. He starred at the wall. "I can still feel what it was like when he beat me. I can still see the blood in the tub when he would make me wash his clothes out after he..." Sam could barely even make himself say the words, "He killed people Dean. Not monsters or demons. But people. Innocent People. He was some crazy homicidal killer just like the FBI here think he was."

"Sam, I... I mean it wasn't real..." Dean stood and walked towards his brother.

"You know that right?"

"Really? What makes more sense a world where monsters and ghost are real or one where...." Sam stood there his back to his brother. He had been trying for days to remind himself that this was real. That the vetala had been messing with him. But... Inside he wasn't so sure.

"Sam..."

"I killed him."

"What?"

"There I killed dad. I beat him until he was unconscious then I slit his throat." Sam slammed a fist against the wall in front of him. "And that's not even the worst thing. Because there in that life... he deserved it. He was an abusive, murdering bastard. And I can still feel all the hate I had for him. It's all mixed in with everything from our real past. I mean he... you both accused me of turning my back on the family. Accused me of hating him but here I never did... not really, but there... I hated him so much. More then I have hated anyone before. Anyone." He thought about Yellow eyes and Lilith and it was true there in that place he hated his own father more then he could ever hate them, despite what he had been through these past few years. Maybe that was why it felt so real still. Because the emotions were so much stronger still. He took a deep breath and tried to clam himself a bit, "But you know what was the worst part was? I almost..." A tear slid down his cheek. "I almost killed Jess, the same way he killed mom."

"Sam it was the vetala." Dean looked at his brother with concern. What else could he say.

"Yeah I know... but I still remember it all Dean. Every second of it." Sam turned not looking up, "and I can never get rid of these memories." Sam looked at his brother. "And Jess...." he trailed off thinking about the woman who had been by his side in the end. What was happening to her now?

* * * * * * * * * *

Jess stood outside Sam's room in the hall. She sunk slowly to the floor. Her emotions too overwhelming. Tears slid down her cheeks, as she buried her face in her hands. She sobbed uncontrollably.

* * * * * * * * * *

Sam sat in the Impala as it pulled out of the motel. His eyes starring out the window watching the world pass by as he and Dean sat in silence.

* * * * * * * * * *

THE END


End file.
